A Man Left Behind
by hazelmom
Summary: A botched mission ends with McGee missing and the team in shambles. Friendship/Team fic.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I have no business with another story right now, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head. I've created a fictitious country because I don't want to create mis-information for any country currently existing. I really hope you like it and let me know. Sheila

A Man Left Behind

Chapter 1

Vance turned on the light in his office, but knew better than to flinch when he found Gibbs sitting on the black leather couch. He'd expected it, and so there was no use fussing about his privacy. He glanced up at the clock on the wall and saw that it was closing in on midnight. This was clearly going to be an unpleasant encounter, but he hoped it would be a short one. He'd been averaging less four hours of sleep a night these days, and Jackie was threatening to stage a coup if he didn't slow down.

He sighed as he threw his overcoat on the conference table, and then he crossed to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of top shelf scotch. He poured two fingers in a couple of highball glasses and turned to offer one to Gibbs. The special agent shook his silver head sharply in reply. Vance could see that Gibbs was going to deny himself any form of relief until this was over.

Vance sat down. "I can tell you know better than to expect any good news."

Gibbs closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'd allowed myself the possibility of a miracle."

"It's the same as what I told you last week. We'll be seeking a diplomatic solution."

"That's bullshit! Navy personnel were murdered."

"After a Naval vessel accidentally destroyed two fishing boats and 35 people during a training exercise."

Gibbs looked away.

"You're too close to this. I'm too close to this. We have to understand that, Gibbs."

"I left him behind. That's all I understand."

"And it's been seven weeks. What do you expect that we would find even if we could have access? Do you think he's sitting on a beach somewhere drinking Mai Tai's; just waiting for us to show up and bring him home."

One end of his mouth curled up. "I can't imagine McGee sitting on a beach anywhere at anytime with that fair skin of his."

Vance leaned forward. "We lost him. Not just you. The mission was my call. There were risks and we were aware of them, but we took the risks 'cause that's what we do, Gibbs."

"You don't need to school me, Leon. I was there."

"Then tell me what you want. What is the end game here? What would make this better?"

"I want to know what happened to my agent, and I want to bring him home, even if it's in a body bag."

Vance threw up a hand. "Are you allowing yourself to imagine that he would be coming home any other way? He was caught in the act of smuggling Navy personnel out of a hostile country. To Berumi, it looks like espionage. If he is alive, then it's because he's being tortured. Is that what you're hoping for 'cause I'm not. I hope he died quickly. I really don't want to imagine any other outcome."

Gibbs was on his feet. "Thank God, I don't have to count you being on my six."

Seriously!? I'm your six all the damn time. It's constant. When are you not going off the reservation, Gibbs?"

He shook his head. "I want out. I want to walk out right now."

"Do it! You're a migraine to me most days of the week."

Gibbs closed his eyes.

"You can't, can you? If you leave, you don't know what will happen to the rest of them. DiNozzo is a lawsuit waiting to happen and David isn't much better. You're all grieving. Scuito looks like she's lost twenty pounds. And you- look at you. Red eyed and jittery. How many hours of sleep do you get a night?"

Gibbs didn't respond.

"If we had it all to do over again, we'd do the same. He had the crazy idea to get in as employees of Interdyne and I liked it. I'd authorize the mission, and you and he would go. It is what it is, and we have to live with the consequences of it."

"Leon, his family still doesn't even know he's missing. It's been almost two months."

"If the government of Berumi knew they had the son of a Navy Admiral, they would turn his capture into a media circus. The Berumians are desperate to spill Navy blood. They'd probably execute him in a coliseum or something. Any chance of recovering McGee alive would be lost."

"The man deserves to know. It's his son."

"It's not your decision, Gibbs. This comes straight from the Joints Chiefs. We keep this under wraps."

"That's it then. I'll just have Ducky fill a prescription for sleeping pills, and then we can all move on."

"What's the alternative? I send you and your people back undercover to an island where Americans are at risk for execution. Let's say we got back in. You wouldn't even know where to look. It's over, Gibbs!"

He shook his head. "That's not how a Marine is built. Until his people are home, it's never over."

Vance jerked when Gibbs slammed the door behind him. The Director shakily brought the highball glass to his lips. It was going to be another sleepless night.

…..

He ran his hand lightly along the exquisite curve of her hip as it sloped into her waist. "You're so beautiful."

Her dark eyes burned as she watched him.

He continued his intricate exploration of her skin with his fingers. Their coupling had been fierce; clothes pulled off as they sought immediate release. He hadn't known her naked beauty until this very moment. His long fingers moved to cup her chin. "I'd like to think that you're here for me and only me."

She pulled away. "That's not possible."

His blue eyes searched hers. "You didn't need to come to my bed to get help. I would be there regardless. Tim is my friend too."

She sighed as she rolled onto her back, her fingers resting lightly on her nipples. "It's better this way. The intimacy is crucial to our plan. It's too difficult to pretend a connection where none exists. I have to be your girlfriend in the full sense of the word."

"Do you have a passport?"

"Of course, Laurent. Do you think this is my first circus? Or is it rodeo? I am your Portuguese girlfriend traveling with you to Interdyne headquarters in Berumi."

The blonde man closed his eyes. "Okay, this is really going to happen then. I'm smuggling you into Berumi with me."

"Yes. He is my brother, my family. I have to bring him home."

"What about your team?"

She shook her head. "They are constrained by U.S. policy. Despite being an American citizen myself, I feel no such loyalty. U.S. policy doesn't recognize the obligation one has to family, but I do. What about you? You have seen him only a few times since you were friends at MIT. Why do you take this risk?"

He chuckled as he reached for her and pulled her close again. "I was surprised to hear from him after the incident in Berumi, but I was happy he wanted my help. Timmy gets under a person's skin, you know. I don't know if it's his sweetness or brilliance or his deep loyalty."

"You were older than he was in school."

"Five years. He looked like he was 14 years old when I first met him. I thought he was a typical wunderkind- arrogant and socially awkward. I was unprepared for how earnest and kind he could be." He folded his arms behind his head. "I remember once when I was struggling with a course in applied mathematics. We were both at the library. He had a huge midterm in nuclear physics the next day. He heard me cursing to myself over a problem I couldn't solve, and he came right over and offered to help. Five hours it took for him to explain the principles that I didn't understand and to show me how to apply them. He was patient and eager and he seemed to thrive on the fact that he was helping me. Wunderkinds typically aren't taught to think beyond their own brilliance. He would've stayed with me all night if I didn't hustle him back to his own studies. After that, it just felt good to have the kid around. He helped me with school and I helped him when the vultures got too close."

"Vultures?"

He sighed. "There will always be people who won't like you because you're smarter and younger and nicer. Timmy got a lot of that. I ran interference whenever I could. He clearly got under your skin too."

She smiled. "Not in the way that you think."

"I know. I've seen you with DiNozzo. The tension between the two of you is palpable."

She looked away.

"I've seen him in action, Ziva. I'd prefer not to wake up one day and find him holding a gun to my temple."

"He has no claim on me."

"Why not?" He persisted.

She closed her eyes. "We're both too vulnerable, too hurt, too angry. We'd destroy each other right now. What's happening between you and I is business, Laurent. This is a mission. Don't get distracted."

He nuzzled his face into her neck. "You make that very hard, Ziva."

…

He woke to the sun in his eyes and he cursed. In January that meant that he'd overslept by a lot. He kicked the blankets off, grabbed pants off the floor, a shirt from the closet, and stumbled to the bathroom. Minutes later, he emerged showered and dressed. Discipline was slipping away from his life like it had in the months after Shannon and Kelly were murdered.

He ran down the stairs, but stopped cold at the sight in his living room. The man was sprawled half on the couch and half on the floor, still dressed in a suit and overcoat. The scent of stale whiskey hung in the air. Gibbs stepped over to him, and picked up a fifth of Johnny Walker Red lying on its side on the floor. The good news was that he was still drinking the expensive stuff and it was only half empty.

The figure moaned and a fuzzy head lifted. "Gibbs?"

"What time did you get here?"

"3 or 4. I don't remember."

"Tell me that you didn't start drinking until you arrived." Gibbs couldn't hide the anger in his voice. It seemed to always be present in his interactions with DiNozzo of late.

Tony squinted at him and murmured. "I know better."

"Your judgment is so screwed lately I wouldn't be surprised." Gibbs turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

Tony tried to sit up and groaned at the pain in his back. He slowly leaned back until he found a comfortable position to sit. "I called you three times, Gibbs! What the hell happened?!"

He was met with silence. He slapped the couch. "I'm talking to you!"

Gibbs finally emerged with two cups of coffee. He handed one to DiNozzo. "I told that you I would call you if I knew something. Vance only had the same song and dance as he always does. Nothing new. No reason to call you."

Tony glared at him. "You should've called."

Gibbs sat down and sipped on his cup. "Where's Ziva?"

"How should I know?"

"I told you to keep an eye on her."

"You used to discourage fraternization."

"Do I gotta' play a game with you every time we have a conversation?"

Tony grimaced at the bitter taste. "You'd never make it as a barista, Gibbs."

"DiNozzo!"

Tony put the coffee down. "It's different for her, you know. She knows what it's like to be captured as a spy. She knows what he's facing or what he faced. She feels it differently than we do. Nothing matters to her but this."

"Okay, Tony, I'll play. It's different for her."

"She can't sit for it. It doesn't matter what the cost. She can't just sit and wait. I admire that about her."

"If you had your way, we'd be storming the beaches of Berumi."

"What's wrong with that?! We did it for Ziva, and we thought she was dead."

"We raided a warlord, not a government. With Ziva, we got lucky. Really lucky. We wouldn't even know where to start with McGee. There is no intelligence coming out of that country that tells us anything about where he is."

"Well, Ziva is not waiting."

"What does that mean?"

"She spent the night with Laurent Pierce, and I did some checking. Pierce is going to Berumi in a week for a four-month stint at Interdyne headquarters there. He's bringing a Portuguese girlfriend/interpreter named Cassia Alves. What do you want to bet Cassia is Ziva?"

"She's gone rogue."

"This surprises you?"

"We can't all spiral off in different directions."

"You mean, like Ducky."

Gibbs hung his head. "What?"

"Palmer overhead him on the phone with the International Red Cross. He has a connection there. He's trying to get on the Berumi team under his Scottish citizenship."

He closed his eyes. "We're not working as a team."

"That happens when you lose your leader."

Gibbs said nothing.

"Remember when we lost Kate and you got soft? You felt guilty. You're doing the same thing here. Only back then you had Ari, big and bad, in your own backyard. You were able to pull it together again. This time, the target is unclear. You can't find your focus because you can't blame a whole country. You're angry, you're hurt, and you're lost. You're paralyzed, Gibbs."

"Shut up," he said softly.

"Can't. You have to wake up. If you don't, the cost is going to be far larger than just McGee. Have you looked at Abby lately?"

"You need to look in the mirror yourself, Tony."

He snorted. "You got me. I can't sleep. I drink to keep from drowning. It's true. I love that kid. I had no idea he was buried so deep inside me. How did that happen?"

"Tony, he loved you even when you didn't know how to love yourself. He did that for all of us."

"God, I miss him!"

"We all do."

…..

Abby avoided mirrors. She had to. Mirrors told the truth of the last two months. They showed eyes tortured from crying and lack of sleep. They showed hollows in her face that came from weight loss, dark patches under her eyes that she couldn't find the energy to cover. They showed stringy hair that fell below her shoulders because pigtails were for happy people. She had no interest in her collars or jewelry or anything that marked her distinct identity. The sadness in her had settled so deep that it was a struggle to remember feeling anything else.

Every morning, she got up mechanically. Threw a t-shirt on, a pair of jeans, and went to work. Then she stayed until someone told her to leave. She didn't recognize weekends anymore, and it was only because Sister Rosita showed up Sunday mornings, that she varied her routine at all.

Abby kept his picture up on the wall, and a number every day to mark the length of his absence. It always made her teary, but she didn't know how else to hold him close. She had a key to his apartment, but going there overwhelmed her. Still, she dipped into savings and made sure his rent was paid on time.

She talked to her machines more now. It seemed like they were her only friends. Mass Spec in particular had been working hard not to let her down. He hadn't faltered once since Tim left. On the other hand, her human friends came to see her less often, and when they did, they were distant, hostages to their own sadness. Tony was the only one who came every day to hold her tightly and whisper words of comfort in her ear, but even he was no longer the brilliant goofball he'd been such a short time ago. She could smell the booze in his skin, and it left her uneasy for him.

She narrowed her eyes at the evidence on the table and tried to remember which case it was. Sometimes, it felt like she was working in a fog. She often repeated tests two-three times because she feared making a mistake so much.

"Abby."

She turned to find Gibbs standing there. He was quiet these days and stiff around her. She knew it was his grief that left him this way, but she couldn't help feeling abandoned by him.

"Come here."

She gave her head a quick jerk of defiance. He hadn't earned her compliance, but then the need for him overwhelmed her and she went to him. He placed his hands lightly on either side of her face and studied her carefully. One hand dropped and ran over the side of her torso, stopping when he felt the contour of her ribs.

He closed his eyes and pulled her close. "I'm sorry, Abby. I'm so sorry."

She breathed in his scent, and a sob broke from her throat.

"I'm lost. Tony helped me see it this morning. I left him, Abbs, and I've never done that before. I left a man behind. It's stuck in my gut, and I can't get it loose."

"You didn't have a choice," she sobbed into his chest.

He sighed. "Maybe I didn't, but now I've failed you too- and Tony and Ziva. I've abandoned you all."

She clutched him tightly. "But you're here now, and that's all that matters to me."

He pulled away enough to look in her face. "You have to start taking care of yourself. You have to eat better. I need you to be okay."

"Sister Rosita brings me soup for the week."

He stroked her face. "That's not enough. I'm going to start bringing lunch for you."

"I thought I was getting better," she hiccupped. "For awhile, Laurent was coming over to spend the night, but then he stopped."

He frowned. "Laurent Pierce was spending the night at your house?"

"Don't be mad at me. I needed comfort and none of you were there. Timmy would understand. I know he would."

"You don't know him, Abbs."

"He's Tim's friend and he saved your life. He got you on the Swissair flight just in time."

Gibbs cocked his head. "You did that. You put us on that flight. When I debriefed him, he told me that."

"He was just being modest. It was his idea. When he first suggested it, I didn't think there was enough time to get tickets for an international flight. There are always hoops to jump, but when he urged me to call the airline, it all sort of fell into place."

"I didn't know that."

"He's a hero."

"Okay. He's a hero, but you're too vulnerable right now. I don't want him coming over like that."

"But I feel safer. He lets me talk about Tim as much as l need."

He nodded. "I can do the same. You pack a bag. I'll fix up the spare room. You're coming to stay with me."

"Gibbs."

"I mean it. I'll watch over you. I'll keep you safe. You be at my house by 9 or I'm coming to get you."

Gibbs stopped outside of her lab and leaned against the wall. He could feel a fire starting to build. He'd left them all to their own grief for too long, and he needed to get back in the game. And there was something else- something that Abby said that left him feeling unsettled. Unanswered questions were exactly what he needed to give him focus. He pulled out his cell and hit a number. "Hey Tobias, I need to talk to you ASAP."

…..

Berumi was a small island nation off the coast of Brazil. It sat on the equator, and with the exception of three months out of the year, it rained almost daily. The humidity was ever present, and his clothes always felt damp. Yet he never undressed. He still wore the same clothes he'd worn in the airport waiting to board the plane. They were torn, dirty, and they smelled of mold, but they were his last reminder of who he was.

The cot in the old cell had a flea-ridden blanket on it that he used only when the hard metal gave him sores. During the day, he found the old clay floor more comfortable. He was in an old prison, clearly a leftover structure from Portuguese colonial rule. There were black metal bars on the open window and on the door to his cell. Some days, he scraped at the soft clay around the bars, but it seemed a futile effort. His body was a mass of bruises and fractures. He could barely walk let alone navigate an escape.

They weren't coming for him today. When they came for him, it was always before his first meal so he didn't vomit on them when they beat him. In the beginning, they came for him a lot, and asked questions for hours. They wanted to know the purpose of his mission. They tortured him for names of Berumian participants and possible CIA operatives. He didn't know the answers to any of those questions. When it was too painful to resist anymore, he made up stories for them, and they would leave him alone.

Each week, they came for him less and for shorter amounts of time. Their interrogations became lazy and awkward, and he could see that they had no real plan. If there was anything Gibbs taught him, it was to have a plan before you sat down with your suspect. His interrogators were young and disorganized. It was almost as if they were questioning for fun rather than with any purpose in mind.

He heard the sound of the courtyard door opening outside his window and he moaned. The sadists were planning to execute someone again. It was the only time they used that courtyard. They liked to execute prisoners where it could be seen and heard from the cells. The impact of these events on prisoners was chilling.

In the beginning, McGee had avoided going to the window. It was always a horrific scene. The executioners would taunt and tease their victims for hours before finally riddling them with bullets. It was a cruel and soulless exercise meant to terrorize the prison populace.

In recent weeks, he'd gone to the window during these times to witness it. Fear had largely been drained from his psyche and he was determined to remember the faces and names of the victims in the unlikely event he survived this experience. He also took careful note of the tormentors' faces and names. He spent hours every day dreaming of the retribution he would exact, both legal and savage, if ever given the chance.

"McGee!" sounded a disembodied voice.

McGee looked down at the corner of his cell where a crude irrigation trail ran along the clay floor between the cells. It was where the water runoff was supposed to go during hurricanes so that the cells didn't flood. The hole between the cells was barely large enough for his fist. Yet it was large enough to get a shadowed look at his neighbor Paolo Fuentes.

"McGee!" Paolo always said it in his thick accent like he was saying the name, Maggie, but McGee didn't care.

McGee crawled over to the hole. "Paolo."

"Don't watch today, my friend."

"There should be a witness."

"God is watching, McGee. That is enough, today. It is my old friend, Cantu, they have down there."

"You know this."

"My contacts have told me. Cantu doesn't want a witness."

"He's your friend?"

"We were professors together at the university. I have known him twenty five years."

"I'm sorry."

"He wants his dignity, but they won't allow that. I sent word to him telling him to scream and carry on so they have what they want. It will be quicker that way, but I don't think he will listen. He is a stubborn man, and so it will be a long afternoon."

McGee's stomach turned over at the thought of it.

"I have too many memories of Cantu, of the old days when we were building a democracy. My heart will burst. You must distract me, McGee. Today, you will tell the story of what brought you here."

McGee closed his eyes. It was an old trick to plant an informant in hopes of getting information. He'd talked to Paolo for many hours over these last weeks, but he'd told him very little about himself. They'd always stuck to conversations about literature.

"You are afraid that I will share your secrets."

"I've told them the truth, Paolo. I have nothing to hide."

"Good. Tell me that truth. Tell me the story that brought you to this terrible place. I have long waited for it. It will keep me sane, McGee."

A piercing howl issued from the courtyard as the thuds of boots on flesh could be heard.

"Please, my friend. Save me today."

McGee took a deep breath and began his story.

…..

TBC….


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I have time to post another chapter. More questions answered and more questions posed. I am so glad you are reading and telling me. It inspires me to write more. Sheila

**A Man Left Behind**

Chapter 2

"I'm an American, Paolo. I told you that the first day. I came here on a mission to rescue two American teen-agers, nothing more."

"I don't understand, McGee."

"You've been in this hole too long, but you probably know enough. We have a small consulate here. Additionally, we have a very small Naval research station. They are tasked with observing Naval movements in the Southern Hemisphere. It has been here for 45 years without incident."

"I know of this place. I used to protest its existence. It threatened our sovereignty."

McGee smiled. Paolo was a leftist to the end. "You probably heard that we had destroyers in the area on a training exercise, and there was an incident. Fishing vessels wandered into the exercise, and two large boats were sunk. 35 people were killed."

"Yes, I heard. Even the prisoners here condemned the Americans."

"Emotions were high, and the consulate was evacuated in the night. The research station tried to hold off until morning. Two children of Naval personnel were on a school trip. Crowds surrounded the station, and a mob broke through in the early hours of the morning. 7 Americans were murdered. Another 23 were able to escape in waiting helicopters."

"It was wrong for those Americans to be murdered just as it was wrong for U.S. ships to do war games in our waters."

More screaming drifted up from the courtyard as a tormentor tortured Cantu with threats against his children.

"McGee!"

"The two children never made it back from the school trip. They were hiding in the home of the Spanish consulate. The Navy was already under international pressure to leave the area and couldn't help. The Spanish ambassador agreed to keep them for only one week. He did not want to risk the safety of his people. After one week, he said he would turn them over to Berumian officials."

"Coward!"

"Yeah, we thought so too. The problem was brought to NCIS. This means Naval Criminal Investigative Service. I am a special agent there, not a spy. Primarily, we investigate domestic crimes involving Navy personnel, but we do have the power to operate internationally as well."

The courtyard had grown quiet, and for a moment, McGee imagined that the whole thing was over, but then came the hysterical babbling of a man begging for the lives of his children.

McGee shook the sounds out of his head. "I came up with the solution. Interdyne Industries is an American technology company that moved offices here twenty years ago. The president of Berumi and the CEO had gone to school together. There is a complex treaty that allows Interdyne to operate in Berumi regardless of the state of U.S.-Berumi relations."

"I know the company well. They pay workers well, but they are also corrupt."

"I have a friend who is an executive at Interdyne. I had an idea that we would go in to the country as Interdyne employees and bring the children out. It was a difficult situation because Interdyne had to stay neutral in this situation. My friend agreed to help us without informing the CEO of the company. We had very little time, and he was only able to find two identities to use. I went in a project manager and my boss went in as one of my team and also as the father of these two children. We were only supposed to go in, grab the children, and return to the airport."

"Such plans never go smoothly."

McGee sighed. "My Interdyne friend worked with my team to intercept all communications between Interdyne and Berumi. It was a good plan. When we arrived at the airport, Berumian officials were our escorts to the Spanish embassy. We'd convinced them that the children were friends of the ambassador's children, and we had to return them to the U.S. The officials wanted to confirm everything with the local Interdyne office by taking us there the next day, and we couldn't do that without exposing ourselves so the plan was for one of the children to feign illness. We had medical records showing that she had a history of kidney disease. My boss coached her all night long on how to mimic the symptoms of a kidney infection. Then we called Berumian officials and said it was imperative that we get on the next British Airways flight out so we could get her to her kidney specialist. It worked. They rushed us to the airport in the early morning hours."

"You were so close, my friend."

"It was at the airport that it all started to unravel."

…..

"I'm glad you called. You've been avoiding me."

Gibbs leaned over the railing at the Anacostia River. "Been busy."

"You look like hell, Jethro."

He turned his head. "Why didn't the plan work, Tobias? It was a good plan."

Fornell shrugged. "The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry."

"We were at the airport. They'd done all the checks. We'd even survived the call to the Interdyne CEO's office that Pierce and Abby intercepted. We were just waiting for the flight."

"What happened then?"

"McGee was texting back and forth with Abby and Pierce while I sat with the kids. He was the mastermind. He knew the technologies well enough to pass as an Interdyne executive. I just played the part of the dad. That was my mistake. I should've retained more control."

Fornell sighed. "Come on, Jethro. You can't take all the risks. What happened?"

"No one really knows. We had 60 minutes before boarding, and the girl was moaning her kidney infection like an Oscar contender. McGee got a look on his face. Pierced had texted him that Berumian officials contacted the Interdyne CEO again, and they had been unable to intercept it. He worried that the CEO would blow our cover. Then he got another text from Pierce. There was a Swissair flight taking off in ten minutes, and somehow he'd secured tickets on that flight as well. They weren't watching us closely. All we had to do was walk past our gate and get on the Swissair flight. We'd be in the air before anyone knew better."

"Pierce sounds smart."

"Yeah. He's also a handsome charmer who relished his role as a secret agent a little too much for my liking," Gibbs said. "I signaled to McGee and we started walking the two kids to the Swissair gate. Then one of the officials called for McGee. Said he wanted to confirm something. The kid looked at me, and I tried to think of a way to stay back instead of him, but he had all the answers and we had these two kids."

"You were in a tough spot."

"McGee said it was going to be just fine. Said they probably just needed to ask a couple more questions. I knew that I had to get the kids on the Swissair flight, and so I let him walk off with the official. I put the kids on the plane, and I thought about getting off and going for him, but I couldn't trust that the kids wouldn't panic and follow or that the flight wouldn't get delayed because I walked off. I couldn't risk it. I sat there like an idiot and held my breath, waiting for him to board."

"He never showed."

"The airport is small. I could see into the terminal windows as the plane taxied away. McGee was still there arguing with officials. Then I saw two armed men pushing him against the glass hard. That's the last thing I saw before the plane took off."

"And no intelligence since then?"

"Nothing, Tobias. Nothing."

"Man, you're carrying this deep, aren't you?"

"Somehow, it feels even worse than losing Kate. Maybe, it's because I knew him longer or because I've always felt protective 'cause he came to me as such a kid. I don't know."

Fornell shook his head. "It might be some of those things, but this is also about leaving a man behind. My guess is that you see his face every time you close your eyes and it's eating a hole in your gut."

"Why did they have to call the CEO again? I don't get it."

"Does it matter, Jethro?"

"Today, Abby told me that Pierce was the one with the idea for the Swissair tickets. She said that getting them on short notice went very smooth."

"What bothers you about this?"

"Pierce gave her the credit for the tickets."

Fornell shrugged. "He's a modest guy?"

"There's nothing modest about that guy. He's all politician. Yet, he gives the credit away for the one action that probably saved our lives."

"Your famous gut feels off."

"Everything about me is off. I can't tell if there's something here or if I'm just wishing there was."

"You want me to look into it."

"Yeah, and I want you to get me close to Trent Kort. The CIA undoubtedly has ears and eyes on the ground in Berumi, but I can't get any intel. Kort is avoiding me like the plague, and I'm a day away from kidnapping the S.O.B. and beating the information out of him."

"I'm sure he doesn't want you crashing one of his ops."

"Tobias, in the last two months, I have been called selfish, lost, and shortsighted. I have been told repeatedly that there is a bigger picture and that the life of one NCIS agent is the price we have to pay. I have watched this destroy my team, and I have been too paralyzed by my own guilt to do anything about it. I can't listen to all the noise anymore. My gut tells me that we're not doing everything we can to find my agent."

Fornell nodded.

"I don't care about my job or my retirement. I'll serve jail time. Hell, I'll trade places in Berumi with him. It would be a frickin' relief. I just have to know what happened to him. I have to know."

He put a hand on Gibbs' shoulder. "It's okay, Jethro. I got this."

…..

It was late in the afternoon when a series of staccato shots sounded in the courtyard. McGee's head jerked up at the noise, and then he let it settle again with his cheek cool against the clay floor. "I'm sorry, Paolo."

"It's okay, McGee. I am relieved."

McGee breathed in deeply. "I almost wish I were him."

"Your destiny is a different one."

He lifted his face and looked through the hole into Paolo's deep brown eyes. "You've heard my story. What is my destiny? Why am I still alive? What do they want?"

The older man gave him a sad smile. "They don't know. I am sure Saldana's men are arguing over the possibilities. They are storing you here for a big finale."

"Sometimes, I let myself imagine that my government is negotiating for my release."

"No, my friend, don't do that to yourself. Saldana hated the U.S. long before the 'incident'. He has no interest in negotiating anything with Americans. He is simply unsure of how to best utilize your demise."

McGee snorted. "You are a great comfort, Paolo."

"You must prepare yourself. Hope is a dangerous commodity for people like us. I know that one day soon, the door to my cell will swing open and I will have to face the savages in the courtyard. I have nothing to prove. I will give them what they want and then I will join my God. I have very few feelings left on this matter."

"I don't know if I can do that. I come from people who don't give up…ever. I have to leave room for a different possibility."

"Americans!" He spat. "All of your movies have to have happy endings."

"Admit it, Paolo. This American has really started to grow on you."

A hoarse laugh exploded through the opening. "Yes McGee, you are an American who grows on me very much."

…

Ducky looked up from his desk and found Gibbs staring at him. He put down his pen. "How many hours are you averaging at night?"

"You're going on a trip, Duck?"

He closed his eyes. "Mr. Palmer is incapable of keeping secrets."

"I hear you're on your way to Berumi."

He nodded. "I am waiting for the final approval from the International Committee. They will be traveling there for a human rights mission next week. It seems Saldana wants to prove what a benevolent dictator he is."

"Does the committee know what you are really after?"

"They know enough. I wrote out an affidavit explaining McGee's mission there. They are considering his situation as a legitimate human rights violation."

"Vance will have your head."

He shrugged. "The most he could do is take my job. It is a small price to pay."

"You didn't talk to me."

Ducky sighed. "You are like a ghost these days, Jethro. The fact of the matter is that I am doing this for you as much as for Timothy."

"Don't count me out yet."

"Good! I've been waiting for you to say that. You're not going to stop me from going, are you?"

Gibbs shook his head. "It's past time for action, but you remember how much you mean to us. Please don't be foolish. Our pain is already unbearable."

The old Scot smiled. "Of course, old friend."

"I need a favor, Duck."

"Anything."

"You still talk to Penelope Langston?"

"Yes, but I have steered clear since this has all happened. Vance was very clear on his directive to not inform the family."

"It's time to break another rule."

"Are you sure?"

"It's time to shake things up. Can't get any worse for Tim than it already is. She needs to get me in touch with the admiral."

"You know what they say about sleeping giants."

"Just do it," Gibbs said before turning on his heels and striding out of autopsy. Ducky breathed a sigh of relief. It was good to see some energy in the man's step again.

…

"How are things with your new boyfriend?"

Ziva looked up from her desk. "Tony, please don't."

"He's a looker. I'll give you that, but the Ziva I know isn't fooled by a pretty face."

"Stop it."

"When were you going to tell us about your little trip next week, Cassia?"

She froze. "Are you spying on me?"

"Yes," he said softly, never wavering in his gaze.

Her eyes got red and for a moment, it looked like she was going to explode.

"We're a team, Ziva."

"I won't leave him there. I can't. You didn't leave me behind. I have an obligation. I have to find out what happened to him."

"You're not invincible. Maybe, your dead body joins his. What then? How will I even breathe if that happens? There won't be anything left for me to care about."

Her eyes stung with tears. "Tony."

"Berumi is only 67 miles from the coast of Brazil. I'm going to rent a fishing boat and sail in. We can join up. Name a beach, and I'll be there. Deal?"

She got up, hair falling over her eyes and came over to him, putting her arms tightly around his neck. "Shhh, Tony! You know I need to do this."

He spoke through her hair. "I don't really look Berumian, and it's a little late to learn Portuguese, but that's not going to stop me. If you go, I go."

She stroked his hair. "I will be safe. I promise you that."

He shook his head as he pulled her into his lap. "It's not possible, Ziva. No one is safe there."

"But we can't live like this, ahuvi sheli. We won't be right until we do something."

"I know," he said, rocking her gently. "What does ahuvi sheli mean?

Gibbs walked into the bullpen and stopped short. There were few things more inappropriate than what he was viewing at this moment, but he felt no compunction to yell. They were waking up. All of them were waking up. He waited another moment before clearing his throat.

Two heads popped up, and Tony shoved Ziva off his lap unceremoniously. "Boss!"

"DiNozzo, you remember a few months ago when we had that case with stolen Treasury bills? You talked about some classmate of Tim's that the two of you ran into. I want you to go visit him. See if his recollections of MIT are the same as our friend, Pierce's."

"Gibbs." Ziva stood.

He pointed at her. "You go with him and listen good. You're not going anywhere with Laurent Pierce until we have all the facts."

…

"Zombies?"

McGee nodded. "Zombies."

"Do you want me to beat you harder?"

McGee rubbed the blood from his mouth on his shoulder. "It doesn't matter. You will do what you do."

"The U.S. does not have zombie soldiers."

He grunted as he tried to adjust the placement of his hand tied tightly behind his back. "Your men believe me. Look at them. They know zombies are real. They know the U.S. has powerful technology."

The interrogator looked at his men sharply. "It is a lie!"

His men shifted uneasily.

McGee licked at the blood trickling off his lip. "We are developing zombie armies. Think of it. They feel no fear. They can walk underwater. They will eat you alive."

"Zombies are easy to kill," said the interrogator trying a different approach.

"You have to shoot them in the head at least twice. Don't believe the movies. We have done real research. It is almost impossible to shoot accurately when ten of them are advancing on you all at once."

The soldiers started murmuring amongst themselves. The interrogator turned on them. "Silence!"

"It is still top secret, but I have worked with the Colonel developing his army. He is L.J. Tibbs. It is a strong piece of intelligence for your superiors to have."

The man slapped him across the face hard. "Enough!"

McGee's head lolled on his shoulder.

"Tell me something real. Now!"

He lifted his head slowly. "You don't understand the principles of interrogation very well, Shakespeare. I can call you that, right? I can't believe your mother named you after the greatest writer to ever live."

"Shut up, American!"

"Which is it? Shut up or talk?"

"Give me real information or I will push you over and my men will kick you in the head."

"Did your mother understand the consequences of giving you that name? Surely, she didn't realize it would lead you to a life such as this."

"Talk!"

McGee shook his head slowly. "Torture is useless for this. Let me explain. I will either tell you something real because I know something or I will lie because I don't want to be hit anymore. You have no way of knowing the difference. You only use torture when you already know the answer you seek. Torture is best used for confirmation. What you're doing is simply abuse with no resulting benefit."

"Do you wish to die today?"

"Is that your decision to make, Shakespeare? What if you hit me too hard and I don't wake up? What would Saldana say? Would you end up taking a trip to the courtyard?"

"It is like talking to an idiot."

"I feel the same, Shakespeare."

The interrogator slapped the wall. "Get him out of here!"

…..

"Hi Boss."

Gibbs lifted his head off the pillow and squinted into the dark. "McGee?"

The young man smiled. "Time to get up. I brought you coffee."

"Oh God! I'm so relieved. When did you get back?"

"It doesn't matter." He handed him a cup.

Gibbs brought to his lips and then sputtered. "Damn! This is bourbon. Why are you giving me bourbon?"

McGee sighed. "So Tony doesn't drink it. Tony is at a crossroads, and we have to help him make the right decision."

Gibbs sat up and put the cup on the nightstand. "It's been rough since you've been gone. I've blamed myself. "

"I don't blame you, Boss. There was nothing you could've done."

"You've always forgiven me all my excesses…even when I didn't deserve it."

"I wish this was real."

Gibbs shook his head. "It has to be. Please Tim, please be real. I've been choking on my guilt."

"But you're getting better. You fought harder yesterday."

"I'm doing everything I can think to do."

"Why did they call the CEO back, Boss?"

"I don't know."

"It's an important question, don't you think? And there is one person who would know."

Gibbs studied the young man in the shadows. "Of course! What's wrong with me?"

"It just took a little time to screw your head back on straight."

"God, I'm sorry about this."

McGee smiled. "Boss, you have to remember that apologizing is a sign of weakness. The truth is that you have little control at what life throws at you. You should understand that better than anyone else."

He closed his eyes and nodded.

McGee slapped his knees. "Well, I gotta' go. It was nice talking to you."

"No! McGee, you stay! Don't you go anywhere! You hear me!?"

McGee disappeared into the shadows. "McGee!"

"Gibbs!" He felt hands on him and he tried to wrench away.

"Gibbs, it's me, Abby!"

His eyes popped open and saw her kneeling on the bed, hands on his shoulders. The sound of pounding echoed below them. "What's going on?"

"Someone's at the door. It's 4 a.m. I was afraid to answer it."

Gibbs pushed her out of the way. He grabbed a pair of jeans from the floor, hiked into them, and ran down the steps. Abby grabbed one of his polo shirts from the closet and followed him.

He pulled the door open, and Ducky came through followed by Penelope Langston, and a tall dark haired man whose face was the exact shape of McGee's. "The door's never locked, Duck."

"It's the middle of the night, Jethro. Forgive my formality."

Abby handed Gibbs a shirt and he pulled it over his head. He looked at her. "Coffee."

She turned and disappeared into the kitchen. Gibbs ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. "Penelope. I assume this is Tim's father."

The admiral extended a hand. "Gibbs."

Gibbs shook it and gestured toward the sofa. "Sit down. Abby is making coffee."

The admiral blinked. "This is Timothy's Abby?"

"She's staying with me for a bit. We're all…struggling right now."

"How many days?"

Gibbs closed his eyes. "58."

McGee shook his head. "I can't believe this."

Penelope wagged a finger. "You should've been on the phone with me immediately. What were you thinking?!"

"Stop it, Mother. He was under orders."

"He's a civilian."

"When you get orders from the Joint Chiefs and SecNav, it doesn't matter what you are. I told you on the way over here that we're not going to do this. We don't have time for it."

Abby came in with a pot of coffee and cups that she placed on the coffee table. Penelope grabbed her hand and pulled her down beside. "How are you doing, Honey?"

Abby shook her head and Penelope hugged her tightly.

Admiral McGee ignored the coffee. "Dr. Mallard brought me up to speed, but I have questions."

"If it had been my choice, you would've been informed immediately."

Penelope threw up her hands. "Why weren't we? I don't understand."

"It's delicate, Mom. If they get a whiff that Tim is my son, it will go very badly for him."

"I was told that you were doing very sensitive work, Admiral."

Admiral McGee snorted. "Of course, they told you that. That was to keep you from contacting me on your own."

Gibbs arched a brow. "You're not engaged in sensitive work?"

"Always but that's nothing special. I am an admiral with an IQ of 175. I oversee all of the weapons technology projects for the Navy, and then I go in and explain the science to SecNav and his idiot fratboys. SecNav wouldn't let you tell me because he thinks I'm a delicate flower that will fall apart if I know the truth."

"I don't understand."

McGee looked at his mother. "I'm a moody man. Always have been. Mom finally talked me into an evaluation about a year ago. Got diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I'm medicated now, but I can't convince SecNav that I'm not a raving lunatic. He even assigned a psychiatrist to my staff. Unfortunately, he doesn't have another nerd Admiral who can explain technology to him. We're stuck with each other for the time being."

"Tim never knew about your diagnosis?"

He shook his head. "I never learned how to be vulnerable with my son."

Penelope leaned forward. "Is he alive, Gibbs?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything, and I realized yesterday that if I wait for U.S. State Department to unravel this, we're never going to know anything. So, now I'm pulling out all the stops. I'm calling in all my favors at the CIA, FBI, and I don't know what you can do, Admiral, but I'm not playing by the rules anymore. Nobody out there is thinking about your son besides us."

"This is a dangerous game, Gibbs."

"Would you have preferred I not call you?"

"God no. I know not to go public. Jarvis just wanted to make his life easy. I talked to friends on the Joint Chiefs. Keeping this from me was not a popular decision."

Abby pulled away from Penelope. "Jarvis could hurt Gibbs."

Admiral McGee shook his head. "Nothing is going to happen. Just because I'm not a politician doesn't mean I don't have power."

Gibbs shook his head. "Okay, let's get focused. You work with technology companies a lot. Do you know the CEO at Interdyne?"

"Sheldon Parks. Very focused man. Mallard here thinks he's the one that dropped the bomb on your rescue."

"I haven't talked to him. State Department won't let me near him. I don't know his story. Why did the officials at the airport have to call him again?"

"Does it matter, Gibbs? Your cover was blown. It could have been any number of things. Parks follows a protocol approved by the State Department. He's a 'by the book' kind of guy. "

"I think it matters, Admiral. I think it's very important."

"You understand the corners of this thing better than I do. I'll call him right away. In the meantime, my mother and I are going to go bang down some doors at the State Department."

"Good." Gibbs stood and took a breath. "I'm not much for apologies but what happened to your son is my responsibility—"

The admiral waved him away. "We don't have time for this. My son's job carried risks. I knew that. What the two of you did to save those kids was important and gutsy. It needed doing. I'm glad Tim was part of it. I…just wish I wasn't such a fool when it came to my pride. I never got a chance…let's just say that we both live with regrets, Gibbs."

Gibbs nodded, his eyes weary and sad.

…..

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: No, I haven't abandoned this story. I'm just very busy at the beginning of a semester. Plus, I am having my semi-annual crisis of faith about why do I write this stuff and does it feel like the last story I wrote and am I really growing as a writer. You know, we all go through it, but I will hang in there. Out of over 25 NCIS stories, I have only not completed one. Sheila

P.S. Someone asked me where I got my inspiration for this story. I got from the movie, Argo.

A Man Left Behind.

Chapter 3

Tony hugged his arms around his middle and stamped his feet in the early morning cold outside the landfill, waiting for McGee's friend, Stewart. It was still hours before sunrise. Ziva pulled up in the sedan with a trio of hot coffees. He waited until she came up to him and took one gratefully. She wrinkled her nose a little when he got close. "Tony?"

"I didn't drive. I had a cab drop me off."

"I don't care. You still smell like whiskey."

"It 4:30 a.m., Ziva. What the hell do you want from me?"

She put the coffee tray on the hood of the car and cupped his face. "I need you to take care of yourself."

"I'm trying."

"Tony."

He looked away. "I close my eyes and I see Kate in the morgue and then I see him dead in a mass grave somewhere, and then I see you going to Berumi. I'm not in control of myself."

"Look at me!"

He directed his rheumy eyes at hers.

"I need you! Gibbs needs you! McGee needs you! Do you understand?!"

He nodded slowly.

"I love you, Tony, and I know you love me too. I also know that we both love McGee." She patted his cheek. "You know you've found love when there's a hole created in their absence. I know you have a hole in you. I have one too, but we can't give up. Okay, Tony? We can't give up. Not now."

He nodded and pulled her to him tightly.

"DiNozzo?"

He blinked hard and looked into the darkness of the early morning. "Stewie?"

"Hey! Come in out of the cold." He pushed them into the guardhouse at the gate. They nodded at a portly man hunched over a cup of steaming hot coffee and Stewie steered them into a small breakroom. "How you doing? You sounded real serious on the phone. Timmy alright?"

DiNozzo sat down across from Stewie and pushed a coffee at him. "Stewie, this is Ziva. She works with Tim too. We're here because we need your help."

He frowned. "Timmy's in trouble?"

"Big trouble. I need to ask you some questions, okay?"

"I don't understand."

"I'll tell you more later. Right now, I just need you to help us with some answers."

He nodded.

"Do you remember Laurent Pierce?"

One side of Stewie's mouth twitched. "Of course. Everyone knew Laurent."

Ziva leaned forward. "He and McGee were close, right?"

"Ah…I guess so. I mean, Laurent was close to whoever could help him pass classes."

"Tell us more."

"I don't know. He talked a good game, but he wasn't good at theory, and he hated to spend any time in the library. He'd make friends with people, and then sort of ride on their coattails. Why do you want to know about Laurent?"

Tony sighed. "He works at Interdyne, and Tim brought him in to help on a case."

"This is how Timmy got in trouble?"

Tony looked at Ziva. "We don't know. He helped us with a case and it went bad, and Tim…ended up getting hurt."

He screwed up his face. "You want to know if Laurent could've been the reason he got in trouble?"

Ziva shook her head. "We just want to know more about Laurent."

Stewie slapped the table. "The guy would sell his mother if it helped him get ahead. I was trying to be polite, but it's true. Laurent is not a good guy. He used to treat Timmy like shit. Always talking about how gullible he was and how he could talk him into doing all his work. I used to tell him all the time that Laurent was using him, but Tim always wanted to believe the best in people. Finally, senior year he figured it out and cut him off. Pierce almost didn't graduate."

Ziva reached across and grabbed his hand. "Would he hurt McGee? Do you think he's that kind of person?"

Stewie swallowed. "I guess I always saw Laurent as weak more than mean. He just never struck me as someone with much in the way of character."

Ziva sat back and cursed under her breath. "Sometimes, that can be the most dangerous kind of person of all."

…

"McGee! McGee!"

"I'm here, Boss. On your six. Always on your six," he murmured.

"We don't have time. Wake up, McGee!"

Tim rolled his head against the clay wall. "On it, Boss."

"McGee, it's Paolo!"

McGee chewed at his lip for a moment.

"It's Paolo! I am not your boss."

"Paolo!" He said, his eyes popping open. "Paolo!"

"Come here, you idiot American!"

McGee rolled off his metal cot onto the damp clay floor. Pain erupted from his aching bones and muscles, but he ignored it and crawled to the hole he shared with his last remaining friend. He peered through anxiously. "Are they coming for you?"

"Not today, my friend."

"Thank God!" He rubbed at his eyes.

"I need two words."

"What!?"

"Words. I have a former student who will broadcast two words about you. It cannot be your name. These broadcasts are being monitored. It cannot be something that will be traced back here. Can you give me two words?"

McGee took a deep breath. "Something they will understand. A name, maybe. Something unique. DiNozzo! Tell him to say DiNozzo."

"De-noisy?"

"DiNozzo."

"The notes- oh?"

"DiNozzo!"

"This will not work. It has to be understood by the ears of at least two more people. By the time it is broadcast, it will be nothing like this odd name."

"Gibbs lives."

"Gibbs. I can say this. This is good. Did you use this name in interrogation?"

He moaned. "I think I may have. I used his name. He was already safe."

"It's too much of a risk. Gibbs. Gibbs. Gib-son. You are close to this Gibbs? Gibson. How about 'Gibson lives'? I knew a Gibson. It is not an uncommon American name."

"I have to think."

"There is no time," Paolo hissed. "He is at the door. We will try 'Gibson lives."

The dark eye disappeared from the hole. McGee rolled over onto his back carefully, staring at the moldy ceiling. He thought about the name, Gibson. It was a good American name, and there was something about it that was oddly appealing.

The son of Gibbs. Would anyone pick up on it? What would Tony think? He'd always fancied himself as the son of Gibbs. Tim smiled. Tony would handle it just fine. After all, he was like a brother, and most brothers had the same father. His mind relaxed into the memories of the team, and how well they knew each other. It was like a family. Tony could always read him like a book. It was almost creepy, and there was Ziva- so beautiful and powerful. She was always protective of him as if she was years older than he. Gibbs was strong and silent, but McGee had learned to read his face. He saw the love and concern the man felt for all of them.

He thought of Abby- sweet, eccentric Abby. She wasn't like a sister. He felt something for her very deep inside. It was hard to understand and even harder to articulate. He'd always hoped that she would recognize the same deeply held feelings within herself. They were so different, but he believed in his heart that his quiet demeanor was a nice counterpart to her more frenetic energy.

He felt a hitch in his heart as he thought about all the things that would never happen for him again: Tony teasing him, Ziva smiling with all the complexity of a Mona Lisa, Gibbs telling him that he did good, Abby wrapping him into one of her bear hugs, Sunday brunch with Penny, the reunion with his father that he so craved. McGee put a hand on his chest as he heaved his emotions, but he didn't cry. His tears had dried up weeks ago.

…

Gibbs opened the door. "So I am here to get my ass chewed or am I being fired?"

Vance looked up from the file he was reading. "Neither. I'm surprised it took you as long it did to contact the old man."

"You approve?"

"I don't get to have the luxury of sentimentality. I get an order and I follow it. I knew you would go around me eventually. I didn't think it would take so long. Glad to have you back, Gibbs."

Gibbs sighed. "What do you want, Leon?"

"I don't want to sit on the outside anymore having to spy on my own people. I know what Mallard is up to, and I have my suspicions regarding David."

"I'm not sure you can play our game."

"You must've forgotten who I was before I took this job."

"I didn't forget but I thought you had."

"What's next?"

"Fornell is bringing Kort in this morning."

Vance whistled. "How did he wrangle him?"

"I don't know and I don't care. Bastard's got some explaining to do."

…..

"Are you just going to sit there and stare at me, Gibbs?" Kort sat across from him, hands folded neatly.

"I'm just thinking about what I'm going to do to you if you don't tell me everything you know."

"It's the CIA. We're in the business of keeping secrets."

"Not this kind."

"Gibbs, this attachment to your people limits you. Always has. We do dangerous work. We should expect outcomes like this."

Gibbs looked at Fornell. "Are you the one going to keep me from killing him with my bare hands?"

Tobias shrugged. "Depends. That last remark deserves a black eye at least."

Kort leaned forward. "Do you think I can be intimidated by you?"

"Okay, people. Let's get to the main event, shall we?" Vance growled from where he stood, arms folded. "What do you know about McGee?"

Kort sighed. "He was alive six weeks ago."

Gibbs slapped the table. "What does that mean!?"

"That's our last intelligence. He was taken to Army headquarters from the airport. Monterros might still be the president, but General Saldana is the one with the power. He was there for almost two weeks. It wasn't pleasant. Interrogation. Beatings. Electrocution. We tried to get someone close but we couldn't. Then he was gone."

"That's all."

"Saldana keeps lousy records on purpose. There's no trail following him after he disappeared. Our best analysis says that he's somewhere in a mass grave outside the capital city."

Gibbs frowned. "Do you have any evidence of this?"

"No."

"What are the other possibilities?"

Kort shook his head and sighed. "You are a persistent son of a bitch, Gibbs. Berumi is a country of only 140,000 people, but they have two prisons. One is in the city. We have enough informants to know he isn't there. There is another prison, an old Portuguese fort located on the coast. It's called El Corazon Del Rey. It's filled with political dissidents. We have very little intelligence coming out of there."

"McGee could be there."

Kort threw up his hands. "Why? Why would Saldana put him there?"

"We need to know more about what's happening in there."

"Gibbs, CIA resources are going into bolstering Monterros' rule so that Saldana doesn't topple him. If you had been smart, you would've come to us before you went in country."

"Why?"

"Going around Sheldon Parks at Interdyne was the wrong thing to do. The man has a secret agreement with Monterros that he can circumvent the treaty in cases like civilians trapped in country. Monterros didn't want those two kids captured. It would've been a disaster internationally. He isn't the monster that Saldana is. Parks would've worked with you."

"Are you speculating, Kort?"

"Parks got three consulate people out the day after you pulled that stunt with the Navy dependents."

"Then why did he blow our cover?"

"He didn't. Sheldon Parks never took that phone call."

"Who did?"

"Who else at Interdyne knew? Ask yourself that. Monterros isn't the only one facing the threat of a coup. Sheldon Parks got set up."

Gibbs' breath got shallow. "You know this?"

"Saldana needs an ally at Interdyne industries if he overthrows Monterros. It's not going to be Parks. Parks and Monterros have known each other since they were kids. If Monterros falls, Park will pick up his marbles and go home, and Berumi can't afford that. Interdyne employs 18% of the country's workforce."

"Pierce."

Kort nodded. "If you had vetted him better, you would've known that he's been to Berumi three times in the last 18 months to visit Saldana."

Gibbs' breath caught.

"It was brilliant. He played both sides. He gave Saldana McGee, but arranged for the rest of you to get rescued. He's a hero on both ends."

Gibbs looked at Vance who shook his head slowly. "You can't do this, Gibbs. There was no time for us to gather all of this intel. Think of how long it would've taken for us to squeeze it out of our friend, Kort, here. We had to get in and grab those kids before they were given up to the military."

Gibbs pushed away from the table and got to his feet. Kort watched him warily. "Your agent is gone, Gibbs, but you can help us with Pierce. We want to turn him and make him ours."

"So he can live in Berumi like a king while he feeds you morsels. Are you mad!?" Gibbs looked ready to lunge, and Fornell positioned himself between Gibbs and Kort.

"You gotta' think of the bigger picture here, Gibbs," Kort said, watching him carefully.

Gibbs stared at Kort for a long moment, every man in that room prepared for an assault. Then he grabbed his phone and pulled it to his ear. "Tony. Grab Pierce. I want him in interrogation here at NCIS in the next hour…No excuses."

Kort shook his head. "You can't do this, Gibbs."

"I just did."

….

Laurent peered at the mirrored glass in front of him. He was working hard at being nonchalant, but they were experienced at this and they could see the perspiration on the top of his lip, and the nervous tapping on the table. Ziva turned to Gibbs. "He belongs to me. I will have the truth quickly."

He shook his head.

She stamped her foot. "I got close to him. I believed in him!"

Tony shook his head. "I'm going in. I never trusted the bastard."

"You were fooled just as I was, Tony."

"Neither of you are going in, so do me a favor and shut up." Gibbs never took his eyes off Pierce.

"Boss-"

Gibbs turned sharply. "I mean it. This isn't a game. He might know where McGee is. Stay focused, people."

"Okay," Tony nodded. "You go in alone."

Gibbs left and Ziva wrapped her arms tightly around her middle, shaking her head. "I can't believe I let- I can't believe…"

Tony enveloped her gently. "It's okay. I know you. You would do anything to bring our boy home. I understand. Gibbs understands. And so does Tim."

….

Pierce leaned forward. "Okay. You got me. I am definitely confused, Gibbs. What's going on? Do you know something about Tim? If you do, just say it."

"Actually, Pierce, I was thinking that you might know something."

He cocked his head. "I don't get it."

"It hasn't felt right for awhile. I just couldn't figure out how it all went wrong back in that airport."

"You were there. I wasn't."

"Parks claims he never called the airport."

"Well, of course he does. He's not going to own up to this."

Gibbs nodded. "I agree. It's bad publicity. We did some checking. Parks was on a conference call with a European company at exactly the time the call would've come in. How could he have made that call? It's a real noodle scratcher, Laurent. We don't know what to think."

Pierce shook his head. "You're blaming me. I can see it. You're going to pin this on me."

Gibbs pulled photos out of an envelope. "I got a crazy relationship with the CIA. They really don't like me. It took a lot of finagling to get the right people in the room and then I called in every favor I could think of, but in the end, I got these interesting photos of you and General Saldana."

He licked his bottom lip. "A lot of people have met Saldana. How do you think Interdyne has survived in Berumi?"

"I suspect there've been a lot of deals made under the table, and I think Monterros isn't the only one at risk to be ousted. I think Parks has to be watching his back now too."

Pierce screwed up his face. "You think I'm trying to oust Parks."

"Laurent, don't waste my time with a lot of outrage. If I gotta' spend days dragging this out of you, I'm not going to forget that. I'm going to take it real personal 'cause you and I both know where this is headed."

"You don't understand."

Gibbs slammed his palm down hard. "Then explain it to me!"

Pierce took a deep breath. "I'm the one keeping Interdyne alive. Parks wouldn't deal with Saldana. He was too loyal to Monterros. I had to be the one!"

"What does this have to do with my agent!?"

He closed his eyes. "Saldana didn't trust me. I needed to prove myself. I told him about the rescue, but nobody was supposed to get hurt. I set up the tickets on Swissair to get all of you out. You were all supposed to get on that plane. That was the plan."

"Somehow, McGee got called back."

"Saldana's people were sharper than I thought. They figured it out. I got things to answer to, Gibbs. I understand that, but I saved your life and the lives of those kids."

"That version doesn't work for me." Gibbs said, shaking his head. "I think you got those tickets, but you realized that Saldana wasn't going to be satisfied with just a warning. You knew that you had to give him someone. So why don't give him the kid that showed you up!"

Pierce stood. "Showed me up! McGee! I make three times what he makes. I have money, women, and power. What did he have?!"

"Respect, Laurent. Respect he didn't have to buy. He went out and proved himself in a field outside of his comfort zone and he succeeded. He's a geek with a gun and he wears it very well."

"I didn't care."

"Don't play games, Laurent. I saw your face when I first met you. You were watching him. Wondered how he did it. You were in awe and you wanted a part of what we do. What is it like to be never satisfied?"

"It wasn't like that. It was an accident, Gibbs!"

"Is he dead, Laurent? Can you answer that question?"

Pierce sat down and rubbed at his face for a long moment. He finally looked up. "I don't know. I've contacted Saldana three times. I've tried to convince him that we could use this to our advantage. I want to bring Tim back alive and I'm willing to pay whatever he wants."

"What does Saldana say?" Gibbs was softer as he pulled out the final details.

"He tells me to come to Berumi. He says we'll discuss it there."

"What have you told him?"

Pierce chewed on his lip. "I told him that McGee is important."

Gibbs closed his eyes. "You told him that he's father is an admiral, didn't you?"

"I thought it might help."

Saldana hates the U.S. Navy. You know that!"

"I had to prove that McGee was invaluable. In a country like Berumi, class is everything. The son of an admiral is a very important person." Pierce was stumbling over his words.

"You didn't think Saldana would love to parade his dead body through the streets as a way to thumb his nose at the U.S."

"That hasn't happened."

Gibbs looked away.

"I made a mistake and I'll always regret that."

"Shut up!" Gibbs exploded. "You committed federal crimes, and if he's dead, it is on your head. You're going to prison for a very long time, Laurent."

"Please! I can still help."

Gibbs waved him away and walked out of interrogation, slamming the door behind him.

….

The door to observation opened and Vance walked in. "Where's Gibbs?"

Tony turned. "Taking a break. Pierce confessed. We can put him away for a long time."

Vance stared at Pierce for a long moment and shook his head. "Find Gibbs and bring him to my office. The game has changed."

….

Pierce was handcuffed to the table forced to stare at his image in the two-way mirror. They'd abandoned him here, and left him with no more opportunities to explain himself.

It was with great relief when he heard the door open and saw the very intriguing Abby Scuito come through. She carried a cup of coffee and put it in front of him.

"Abby! I'm so glad to see you! Gibbs won't listen to me."

She sat down quietly. "Gibbs trusts his gut. He knows the truth without even hearing it."

"What did he tell you?"

"Nothing. I am often left out at times when he worries that I'll get upset."

"Thank God! Let me tell you what happened."

She put up a hand. "You don't need to. I knew you were in here, and when I am protected like I'm a child, I fight back. So I tapped into the feed in the observation room. I heard the whole thing."

"Abby, he twisted it."

She shook her head. "No, actually I think you twisted it and he unraveled it."

He deflated. "You're not going to listen to me either."

"I brought you a coffee."

"Laced with poison, no doubt."

"No, I wouldn't do that. It's just coffee."

"What do you want?"

She cocked her head. "I'm thinking back to the 3rd night you stayed at my apartment. We were on the verge of being intimate. Three nights of your comfort and I was so grateful. I knew you wanted it to be more physical, and I was craving some release- something that would ease the pain for even a few moments."

"Abby, nothing happened."

"Nothing happened because I made sure nothing happened. I kept thinking how much I rather it be Timmy, and I knew that in the end I would feel worse. I just couldn't do it."

"Why are we talking about this?"

"I don't know. My work is to use science so we can catch monsters, but I rarely get to meet them. I just- I'm confused. How do you do it? You knew what you'd done yet you could sit with me and act like a friend. Was it hard or does that come naturally to you?"

He chewed on his lip. "I was so sorry, and I thought I could make it up to-"

"Stop! That just makes me sick." Abby pulled away from the table. "You're sick!"

"I got caught up in circumstances, Abby!"

She bent over and heaved, backing up against the wall for support. She stayed that way for a moment until she was in control again. Then she straightened. "The truth, Laurent, is that you got caught up in thinking only about yourself. Sacrificing Tim was going to propel you forward. There's no way other to see it."

She was gone before he could think of a response.

….

Gibbs walked into Vance's office followed by Ziva and Tony. He saw Kort sitting at the table and he shook his head. "Hell no!"

"Sit down, Gibbs," Vance said softly.

"Vance, Pierce confessed. He sabotaged a federal rescue mission. He is responsible for what happened to McGee."

"Sit down and the same goes for your posse."

Gibbs glared at Vance and reluctantly sat. Tony and Ziva followed suit. "He's not getting a free ride, Kort. I won't let that happen."

Kort nodded. "You feel strongly. I get it."

"Then what do you want?"

"We're developing networks in Berumi- looking for intelligence. Got a strange message out of a network on the coast yesterday. My people can't quite figure it out."

"What is it?" Tony leaned forward.

"Two words. Gibson lives. We couldn't find any American named Gibson in Berumi or recently evacuated. Then someone had the bright idea to pull it apart."

Ziva's breath caught. "Gibbs' son lives."

"Probie," Tony whispered.

Gibbs shivered. He's alive."

….


	4. Chapter 4

15

15

A/N: I have been sick the last four days, and so this has been hard to write. I hope it works. Your encouragement and support has meant a great deal to me. Thank you, Sheila

A Man Left Behind

Chapter 4

He heard noises in Paolo's cell. Harsh whispers. Paolo was in conversation with someone again. It made McGee's heart beat faster. Every day now, Paolo had visitors at his cell door. The voices were always urgent but too muffled for McGee to catch actual words. He asked Paolo for details but the old literature professor merely answered his questions in riddles.

McGee slept for a while in the heat of the midday. The only relief he could find was from the cool of the clay floor. He lay on his back with his arm slung across his face. No one had come to question him in several days, but it brought him no relief. The interrogations had become familiar and the break in that pattern suggested something more ominous was on the horizon.

McGee suspected that the end for him was near, and that his afternoon in the courtyard was coming soon. And if that didn't take him, he suspected his health would steal him. Standing left him lightheaded, and he doubted he could run 20 feet without stumbling. A fever often visited in the evenings wracking him with muscle aches and chills, and he debated whether it was malaria or dengue. Urination had become terribly painful, and his kidneys ached continually.

"McGee!"

He turned his head slowly toward the hole in the wall. Paolo was pushing something through the small entrance. McGee reached over and grabbed the crusty piece of bread from the hole. "Bread?"

"Yes, my friend. Bread. Eat."

He chewed on the crust and welcomed the warm yeasty flavors- memories from a time that seemed so long ago.

"You have to stay strong."

"What do you know, Paolo? What do your friends tell you? Do you have news?"

"No McGee. I am just arguing rhetoric with old students."

"You're a bad liar."

The old man chuckled. "There is nothing for you to know. If there was a morsel for you, I would share just as I have done with this bread."

"It will be over soon. That's the only comfort I have now."

There was a long pause.

"Paolo?"

"It is not your time yet, McGee. Don't give up now."

"A week ago, you wanted me to accept my fate."

"You were being too American then. Now, you are being too Berumian."

"Please Paolo, don't keep things from me. I have no fear left. Let me have the time to prepare."

"I promise."

McGee reached through the hole, his hand barely fitting. "Take my hand."

The older man's brown hand enveloped his, and the warm touch of a friendly person felt electric.

"I worry for you as much as I worry for myself, Paolo. You are the only friend I have left in this world. If you know of your fate, tell me. No surprises, please."

McGee closed his eyes, teary from the feel of Paolo stroking his hand gently. "Shush, my friend. There is no news to tell you. Relax. I will share with you more of the bad poetry I tried to have published in my youth. It seems to calm you."

McGee closed his eyes. "I like your love poems. Tell me the one again about the girl with the green eyes and jet-black hair. It reminds me of someone I know."

…..

Laurent Pierce jerked up when the lights came in interrogation. He yelped as the handcuffs cut at his wrists. He blinked wildly. "What time is it? You've left me here for days."

Gibbs ignored him as he placed a water bottle in front of him and uncuffed one of his hands.

Pierce watched as a bald man with hard eyes sat down across from him. Then another man entered and he reacted. "Oh my God! Sheldon, I'm so glad you're here. Tell me you have my lawyer with you."

Parks, a short Asian-American man, sat down next to the bald man. "I have no lawyer for you, Laurent."

"You have to listen to my side of this, Sheldon. You owe me that much!"

"I owe you nothing. I have put up with your duplicity for years."

"I have rights!"

"Shut up!" Gibbs was curt. "You have one chance to save yourself, Laurent. So shut up and listen."

Pierce sat back and waited.

The bald man leaned forward. "How would you like a new job?"

"I don't understand."

"We'll keep you with Interdyne. You'll go to Berumi, but you'll work for me."

"Who are you?"

"Trent Kort."

"I'm confused."

Kort smiled. "I thought he was supposed to be smart."

Pierce frowned. "You're CIA, aren't you? You want me to spy."

"Yes. We plan to depose Saldana."

Pierce looked at Parks. "We have a treaty, Sheldon. This would put Interdyne at risk."

"There is no Interdyne in Berumi if Saldana overthrows Monterros. You're an idiot to think otherwise."

"We need Berumi!"

Parks slapped the table. "We can survive losing Berumi, but we can't survive collaborating with a monster."

"This would put me at tremendous risk. I'm not a spy. I can't do this."

Gibbs approached the table. "It's your choice, Laurent. But if you don't take this job offer in the next ten minutes, we're going to charge you as a terrorist under the Patriot Act. It will be at least a year before you'll get to meet with that lawyer you keep asking about."

Pierce shook his head. "You can't do that."

"We can and we will. You work for the CIA or you go to jail for a very long time."

Pierce hung his head for a long minute. Finally, he sighed. "How is this supposed to work?"

"You're going to Berumi in two days just as planned, and you're going to bring your team. You'll meet with Saldana and you'll negotiate McGee's release as you said you would. You'll tell him that U.S. officials will see your rescue of McGee as indication that you can handle the post as new CEO of Interdyne. Bringing McGee home will keep the U.S. from bringing sanctions against Interdyne for working with a hostile government."

Pierce nodded slowly. "I can do that. I want to bring Tim home. You can trust me."

Gibbs snorted. "That's funny. I'm glad you still have your sense of humor. I understand that you are bringing a team of three with you as well as Ziva masquerading as your girlfriend."

"Yeah, Jack Hanson, Rory Mattson, and Tom Hagen."

"DiNozzo will be Hagen, I'll be Hanson, and Kort here will be Mattson."

"No, that's not going to work. I need my real team!"

"Park here is going to help us with ID's. We've been given access to Interdyne databases to make the necessary changes, and the real Hanson, Hagen, and Mattson are about to get a relaxing week at a swanky D.C. hotel so that no questions are raised."

"There has to be another way!"

Gibbs opened the door and ushered Parks and Kort out. Then he turned to Pierce. "There's an agent outside the door that will get you showered, fed, and back to work. You screw this up, and I will see to it that you die in a jail. That's a promise and a threat."

….

She scrubbed at her eyes again before peering again at the passports she was creating for the team. The print was small and her work needed to be meticulous, but eyestrain wasn't what was plaguing her. She finished the last addition, and put it up to the light. It was good. Perfect, in fact. She knew it would pass through any official in any airport in the world.

She placed it carefully next to the rest of them. Gibbs' was the one that really intrigued her. That silver hair and blue eyes were too distinct for a small airport like the one in Berumi. Someone was sure to recognize him from his previous visit. Ziva had wrangled him into a bathroom last night and dyed his hair brown. Jimmy fit him with dark brown contacts. It had been chilling for Abby the first time he walked into her lab. His icy blue eyes were so distinctive. Dark brown eyes changed his look completely. On his chiseled face, those eyes looked dead like a shark's.

"Were you here all night?"

She turned, blinking hard. "Tony!"

He smiled. "Just call me Tom. Can you believe I got Tom Hagen?"

She looked at him in confusion.

"Tom Hagen. Come on, Abbs! Don Corleone's consigliere in The Godfather. Robert Duvall played him."

"I…I didn't think."

"Hey," he said, stepping up. "Are you crying?"

She shrugged. "I'm fine."

He pulled her in tightly. "It's going to be okay."

"You don't know that," she mumbled into his jacket.

He leaned back and searched her face. "He's alive, Abbs."

"Three days ago he was. What about now? What about the rest of you? Ducky leaves today and the rest of you leave tomorrow. Are any of you coming back?"

"We're coming back. I promise you."

She frowned. "You're an arrogant son of a bitch to make me that promise."

He smiled. "I know."

"I'll be even more destroyed than I am now….as if that were possible."

"I got a feeling in my bones, Abbs. We're going to be okay."

She wrinkled her nose. "You smell…nice."

He snorted. "In other words, I don't smell like booze."

"I was worried."

"I slept like a baby last night. First time in months. I finally have something to do. I have a focus. I'm going to go get him and bring him home."

"And the booze?"

"Didn't even think about it."

A smile spread across her face. "Did you see Gibbs?"

He made a face. "It's too weird. I can barely look at him."

"I know!"

He wiped under her eyes with his thumb. "Okay! Let's focus. I gotta' learn how to be Tom Hagen in a day."

She nodded.

He turned at the door. "When we bring him home, you might want to think about telling him how deep he's buried in your heart, Abbs. He might like hearing something like that after all he's been through."

She covered her mouth as her eyes filled again.

…..

The chills and muscle aches signaled another night of fever, and so he talked as a distraction to his agony. "I don't know how to play, Paolo. Never really learned, I guess. About a year ago, I had wracked up the maximum amount of vacation time allowed, and I offered some of it to a co-worker-"

"You can do this?"

McGee smiled up into the darkness as he considered Paolo's question. "In case of prolonged illness in a co-worker, yes. But there was no one I knew in that situation and the truth is that I have skills. I was merely going to go into the system and transfer it into his account, but I had to tell him or he would never find it. My friend, Tony…is like that. Brilliant in many ways and absent in others. Anyway, I thought he would be happy, but he wasn't. He pitched a fit."

"He picked a what?"

"I'm sorry. It's another American colloquialism. He got angry with me. Said I needed to learn how to relax and have fun. Our boss overheard and the next thing I knew, Tony had booked me on a flight to the U.S. Virgin Islands for a week. He picked the hotel, the beaches, everything. He told me to use his name with the concierge and the bartender. He promised me a good time."

"The islands are beautiful. I have been there before."

"Yes, they were very beautiful and they all remembered Tony. They thought I would be like him, but I wasn't. The first morning I got up, put on my SPF 75, went down to the pool, and ordered a drink with an umbrella in it. By noon, I had heat stroke. In the afternoon, I broke out from an allergy to the pineapple in my drink. I came back from the local emergency room in the evening just in time to have dinner and I met a beautiful woman…"

"Ah, the story is starting to look up."

"We had dinner together, drinks, and I was just getting ready to ask her to come with me to the beach the next day when she told me how much she charged for a blowjob."

Paolo erupted in laughter on the other side of the wall and McGee smiled in spite of himself. "I'm a law enforcement agent and I couldn't spot a hooker."

"Then what?"

McGee sighed. "Nothing. I went back to my room alone. The next day, I paid a kid $300 to take pictures of cool things with my camera so I could bring back stories, and I spent the rest of the time at the hotel reading books and playing video games online."

"But you are delightful, McGee, and a handsome man. I have seen your face. Where is the woman in your life or, perhaps, it is a man?"

He hugged his body against the wall for comfort. "It's women but I was not so good with them, I guess."

"I don't buy it, my friend. There is a special one. She has been elusive. The one with the jet-black hair, perhaps."

Tim swallowed. "She's so different than I am. So excited and energetic. Beautiful and unique- everyone who meets her, loves her. Everyone."

"She loves you?"

He was quiet for a long moment. "As a friend, I had no doubt, but a woman like her wanting a lifetime with a man like me- about that, I had many doubts."

"When you talk, you keep slipping into the past tense. Where has your American belief in a happy ending gone?"

"I guess I'm just ready for this to be over. It has been a lifetime. Perhaps, I didn't accomplish everything I wanted, but I know that I mattered. I know that I tried to do good in this life, to help others. That has to be enough, Paolo. Knowing that gives me some peace."

"Most people don't base their legacies on what they did for others. I don't know this dark-haired beauty, but if she is as exquisite as you say, then she knows how very special you are."

"Is tomorrow the end? Please tell me." He rolled around the tiny cot struggling for relief from the fever.

"I don't know, my friend. I don't know."

…

Ziva clutched Laurent's arm as they lead the team down the tarmac to the waiting officials. "I am your loyal girlfriend and I will be with you every minute, but never misunderstand me. There is nothing that would please me more than stabbing you in the eye with a pencil. I dream about it at night."

"Ziva!"

"My name is Cassia. Don't make that mistake again."

A man in military uniform stepped forward. "Mr. Pierce, I trust your flight was comfortable."

Laurent nodded. "It's always such a pleasure to land in your beautiful country."

"The General wants to know if you need a day or two to relax. The rainy season is upon us, but the mornings are quite lovely."

"The General is very generous, but we have a great deal on our agenda. It is my hope that we can meet as soon as possible."

"Excellent! I will contact the General. He is quite eager to meet with you. Please wait here while we bring the cars."

Ziva steered Laurent back to the group. "We should be able to meet this afternoon."

Gibbs looked out on the ocean. There were few places on the small island that didn't have an ocean view. Under different circumstances, the warm ocean breeze and the beautiful palms would've been a tonic for a stressful life, but all Gibbs saw was a volcanic island with no friends to count on and few places to hide.

"What's taking so long?" Tony took off his jacket and fanned the nape of his neck.

"Calm down," Kort said under his breath.

"You don't need to tell me what—"

"Shhh!" Gibbs said sharply as the limousine slowly drove onto the runway.

Ziva leaned into Pierce, pretending to straighten his tie. "You stay cool, Laurent. Not too eager, but you're going to be firm."

The drive into the capital was punctuated with an impromptu tour by their military guide as he pointed out the remains of Portuguese forts and various resorts. Gibbs looked out the window, but pretended little interest in the different sites. They were here on a mission that had very little planning. If it went wrong, then it was over for all of them. Still, he had no regrets. None of them would rest until they were whole again.

"Jack."

He stayed lost in thought until he felt a tug on his arm. He turned sharply to Kort who nodded at Pierce. "Jack, Laurent was just asking you to tell the major about your role as liaison between Interdyne and the U.S. Government.

Gibbs blinked. "I apologize. My mind was elsewhere. I worked for the State Department for several years before coming to Interdyne. I troubleshoot on behalf of Interdyne with the State Department. Try to keep lines of communication open."

The Berumian major glared at him. "Your loyalties are with whom, Mr. Hanson?"

"Whomever signs my paychecks."

"We'll not tolerate U.S. agents on Berumian soil. Our treaty with Interdyne is very clear on this subject."

"I understand."

The major turned back to Pierce. "The General is very concerned about your interest in the U.S. spy we captured on Berumian soil. You should not interfere in our security issues."

Pierce hesitated briefly. "I would prefer to discuss our interest in this matter directly with the General."

"Of course. We are pulling into his compound now."

Saldana's estate was an old plantation with acres of gardens patrolled by guards carrying automatic weapons. Gibbs couldn't help calculating the distance to the road and the amount of resistance they would meet along the way.

Saldana sat on a veranda in full military regalia. He was a tall, portly man wearing every ribbon he had. The deep purple sash was clearly an embellishment all his own. It reminded Gibbs of the vanity of some powerful and cruel men- a desire for adulation and to be recognized for their clear superiority.

He welcomed them with open arms. "Laurent, I've been so looking forward to your return."

He enveloped Pierce tightly. He let go when he saw Ziva. He took her hand, kissing it elaborately. "Hello, my beauty. It is a pleasure to meet you most of all."

His lechery would have turned Gibbs' stomach if not for the fact that Ziva could kill him with her bare hands.

"This is my girlfriend, Cassia, and the rest of my team. Jack Hanson. Tom Hagen. And Rory Mattson."

Saldana offered hearty handshakes and big smiles to all of them. "Sit down! Sit down! We have cocktails! There is nothing else to do on a sultry Berumian afternoon."

They sat and accepted the Berumian equivalent of a caipirinha. Saldana chatted aimlessly about the beauty of Berumi for several minutes while they sipped the strong drinks and looked out on the manicured lawn. When he switched topics, it was abrupt. "Laurent, I hope your presence here means that the power within the company has shifted."

"Parks is still the CEO, but the board is slowly seeing that I am the better future for the company."

"Parks has slowed production here. We can't afford that, Laurent. Our people are hungry. You must remove him soon. I am counting on you."

"It's not that easy, General. We don't depose people in the U.S., and because the company is so large, the government also has a say in any takeover bid."

Saldana spit over the railing. "The U.S. government involves itself in too many matters. Too powerful. Too arrogant."

"Change can be slow, General. If we want faster change, we have to take action."

"For this reason, you want me to give you the U.S. spy, the son of a Navy Admiral." The bitterness in Saldana's voice told them that this would be no simple task.

"Yes, General."

He shook his head. "You ask too much, Laurent. It is better that we drop the whole matter."

Pierce looked at Gibbs who stood slowly. "General, I would like to say something here."

"You're Hanson?"

"Yes. I worked for the U.S. government for many years. If Pierce is able to successfully negotiate the release of this American, it would show the government that he is the right man to lead Interdyne. I can almost guarantee that there would be no opposition to a takeover bid."

"He is a spy!"

"He was working for a civilian agency at the time and he only helped in the rescue of two children. I have researched this deeply through my contacts. He was not a spy."

"He confessed! My people have told me this."

"People say whatever they need to when they are being rigorously interrogated. This man is not a spy, but he is the key to Berumi's economic growth."

Saldana looked away. "I don't like the idea of Americans getting what they want always. You're a spoiled people who don't understand what real struggle is."

"But you are not our parent, General. Chastising us gets you nowhere. Berumi needs Interdyne. We have a way to increase production in country, but we can only guarantee that with your help."

"There are other ways."

"Sure. If you want to wait another year or two, perhaps our takeover efforts will succeed then."

Saldana paced back and forth while they all watched silently. Finally, he turned to them. "I will think about it."

Gibbs nodded, careful not to let the relief show on his face.

"What is his condition?" DiNozzo asked.

"How should I know? Do you think I wake every morning thinking of the poor American in my prison?"

"Can we see him?"

"Your persistence annoys me."

Tony glanced at Ziva. Everything depended on playing this correctly. Pushing him too hard would be a disaster. Suddenly, Saldana barked for one of his guards. "Take this American to El Corazon. He wishes to see the American spy. Let him see for himself what condition he is in. Only then will he know what he is dealing with."

Suddenly, DiNozzo was being hustled into a waiting jeep and driven off the grounds.

….

DiNozzo sat quietly during the 45 minute drive along the coast, trying to hold his composure. He refused to entertain the notion that he was going there as a prisoner. Such fears did him little good at this point. For a while, the scenery was nothing more than beaches and an occasional fishing village. Then he spotted the prison in the distance. It was dark, built out of the volcanic rock of the island. It was old and crumbling, obviously a holdover from Portuguese rule.

He was relieved when nobody tried to handcuff him or manhandle him in any way upon arrival. The dampness of everything was immediately evident, and there was something about the acoustic in the high stone ceilings that played with sound. Even before he entered, it was as the prison was moaning ghostly noises. It didn't remind him of Papillon or Midnight Express or any other movie. It was real life, and he could sense the death and suffering clinging to its damp stone.

Noise floated everywhere inside. Some of it were obvious cries of distress, but DiNozzo couldn't tell if it came from the next room or from somewhere else altogether. Along with the noise, there were the deep, wretching smells of mold and unwashed flesh. They led him a series of winding corridors so twisted he was unsure he could find his way out. Finally, they deposited him in a room with a wooden table and chairs and left him. One of the chairs had leather straps attached and stains splashed into the wood. Tony closed his eyes as he imagined the horrible beatings that had undoubtedly been carried out there.

He jumped when the thick wooden door opened and two guards came in, dragging a man between them. They dropped him unceremoniously to the ground. Tony stared in horror as the thin man struggled to his knees.

Tony knew how important it was that he maintain some detachment so he stayed seated and spoke. "My name is Tom Hagen, Sir. Are you Timothy McGee?"

The dirty and bruised figure on the floor froze for a moment and then looked up. "I am Timothy McGee."

Tony nodded slowly. "You don't know me, Timothy. I work for Interdyne."

McGee's eyes were red and watery. "I'm confused."

"It's okay, Timothy. All you have to know is that my name is Tom and I am here to help."

McGee tried to maneuver himself onto one of the chairs, but his weight was too much and it fell over with him toppling over it. Tony jumped up and ran to him, picking him up gently and guiding him to another chair. It was out of character, but it happened so he turned to the guard sharply and barked. "This man needs water! Get him something to drink! I came here directly from General Saldana!"

The arrogance was either going to work or backfire spectacularly. Luckily, the guard just turned and ran out the door. Tony propped him up in the chair and knelt in front of him. His condition was beyond anything he had imagined. His clothes were torn and had long since lost any color other than a sweaty gray. His skin was mottled with marks and dirt, and when he touched McGee around the middle, he flinched. There was no way for Tony to offer him any measure of relief and so he patted him gently and whispered, "I'm so sorry, Tim."

"I don't understand."

"Just remember that my name is Tom and I work for Interdyne. Can you do that?"

"I've been sick. When the fever comes, I see things."

Tony took his face in his hands. "This is real. I'm real. Feel my hands."

A hand folded over Tony's and McGee's eyes closed. "I understand."

"It's going to be okay. You don't have to do anything. I'm going to do all the work. Okay?"

"When?"

"We're negotiating with Saldana, but it won't take long."

"Okay."

The guard came in with a flask of water and handed it to DiNozzo. He took it. "Take a drink, Tim."

McGee's hands were shaky and he fumbled with the flask. Tony took it from him, and raised it to his mouth, one hand supporting the back of his head. He looked up at the guards. "If anything happens to him, General Saldana will be very angry."

"Don't threaten us, American."

"Is there a doctor? He needs medical attention."

One guard looked to the other. "A doctor! At El Corazon! That is a good joke! The only professional here is the undertaker, you stupid American."

McGee pushed the flask away and looked at Tony. "Tom, I am okay. I don't need a doctor."

Tony could sense the warning in his tone, and he knew he was showing too much. "It's important that you stay healthy as you are part of our negotiations."

McGee nodded. "Thank you for your efforts, Mr. Hagen. I appreciate it. I would like to go home very much, but I want you to know something."

Tony focused on him. "I'm listening."

"If it doesn't happen, Mr. Hagen. I will understand."

"It will happen. I promise you it will."

McGee's chin trembled and he reached over, patting Tony's face. "I will understand."

…


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This is a very intense chapter and graphic. Read at your own risk. And then tell me what you think. Sheila

A Man Left Behind

Chapter 5

Tony was dropped off in front of an elegant villa on the beach. The roar of the waves sounded in the darkness. His hands hadn't stopped shaking since the prison, and he argued with Saldana's soldiers when they refused to take him back to the General's estate. It took everything in him to swallow his anger and act like a man with nothing to lose.

He walked in the front door and found them all waiting for him in the living room. He ignored the gorgeous furniture and high ceilings. Gibbs gave him a sharp nod and pointed to a lamp. Tony knew the villa was bugged and he closed his eyes.

He felt Ziva's small hands push a drink into his and he brought it to his lips like a man at the end of a race. The alcohol burned the back of his throat and he welcomed the sensation.

"Did you see McGee, Tom?"

Tony licked his lips. "Yeah."

"And?"

"It's bad. He's barely hanging on. I can't believe you left Saldana's estate. We should've wrapped this whole thing up right away."

"It doesn't work that way, Tom," Gibbs said. "The General needs time to think."

"He could be dead by then!"

"The General needs a chance to think this over. He needs to understand that this helps him in the long run. We have to give him that time."

Tony swallowed the rest of his drink. "You didn't see him."

Kort stood. "We can't be swayed by our sentimentality. You've always been too emotional, Hagen. McGee is a means to an end. He is Laurent's ticket to becoming the CEO. Once Saldana understands this, we'll be able to get this done."

Tony gripped the edge of the bar. "You're a son of a bitch, Mattson! You're a frickin' statue."

"That's enough, Guys!" Laurent's voice was shaky, hardly what one might expect from a team leader.

"Tom, Cassia and I were going to take a midnight walk on the beach. Why don't you join us? Blow off some steam."

Tony lifted his head. "When do we see Saldana next?"

Gibbs stared at him steadily. "He'll call us in a couple of days. Wants us to enjoy the beauty of the island. Come on now. Let's go take a walk."

Tony brushed past him and pulled open the door to the deck. The sound of the surf erupted in their ears. Tony pulled off his shirt and dropped his pants. Clad only in his boxers, he ran hard into the surf, yelling his frustration into the rushing water. He started swimming hard, choking and sputtering as he struggled to find a rhythm in his strokes. He swam until the beach seemed distant and then he stopped, treading water. He waited for the tears, but they didn't come. There was too much left to do. Instead he felt a deep exhaustion settling into his body and fear gripped him. He realized that not only did he need energy to get back to shore, but he needed in order to help McGee. He needed to be like Gibbs, cool and calculating, able to wait for just right moment.

He started back slowly, pacing himself in the deep water. In the moonlight, he saw Ziva running up and down the beach until she spotted him. She shouted and came running toward him. He was chest deep when she reached him, clinging to his neck as he waded in.

"Don't ever do that again!" She hissed into his neck.

Gibbs was waiting for both of them with robes and towels. "Are we done with the dinner theater?"

Tony nodded as he wrapped the thick robe around him.

"Walk." Gibbs started moving off along the shore and the two of them ran to catch up.

He turned his head. "How bad?"

"Salim bad."

Ziva tossed her wet head. "Torture."

"It's what we expected, right? It's what I expected, but then you face it and you're helpless to do anything…"

"Is he incapacitated?"

Tony turned to Gibbs. "He can't walk on his own. Bruises. Possible fractures. Malnutrition. He was sick. He was unfocused. Didn't recognize me right away."

"The prison?"

"It's a labyrinth of old stone passageways. No logic to the layout. It was designed as a fort to repel invaders from the sea. The guards are young, undisciplined, but it's clear that the place is run by sadists. I could hear the screams. I could see the blood stains everywhere."

Gibbs stopped and rubbed his mouth. "I wish we had a plan B. I worry that Saldana is just playing with us. The decision to send you out there was…so abrupt. The man is impossible to predict."

Tony shrugged. "He has to do this. There's no other way. We can't storm the damn prison."

"Wishing for something isn't going to make it happen."

"What's the alternative! We leave him! I don't think I could do that. Can you? I mean, you did it once, Gibbs. Does it get easier with practice?"

"Tony!"

He backed away. "We'll never be the same. Imagine walking away from him. How could we live with that? I know I couldn't. I wouldn't be able to ever look at you…any of you again."

Ziva advanced on him, wet curls streaked across her face. "Stop it, Tony! Don't talk to him like this! No one walked away from McGee before and no one is going to do it this time either. What's wrong with you!"

"You weren't there," he said softly.

"But I have been there before, Tony. I know what he is feeling. Do you really think any of us would walk away from him?"

Tony shook his head. He turned to Gibbs, but the man had disappeared into the darkness.

….

"You are not thinking, McGee. It will not work."

Chills and muscle aches gripped McGee's body and he hugged the wall for comfort. "Why are you doing this to me, Paolo? Don't take away my hope. They came. They're finally here and I know they won't leave without me."

"I am sure they are sincere."

"Do you think I will forget you, Paolo? I won't. I'll work very hard to get you out too. I will make sure your story is everywhere. I promise you."

"My dear friend, I am not worried about being left behind. It is not about that. I say this because I know Saldana. In better days, I knew him as a contemporary. I know his character. He's impulsive. He allowed the visit, but that doesn't mean he will allow your rescue. He dangles hope before you for the pleasure of snatching it away."

"Why? I don't understand. He doesn't even know me."

"It's a game played for your American friends. Imagine for a moment that he allowed you to leave. What would happen?"

"I would go home," McGee whispered into the clay.

"Where you would undoubtedly be debriefed and share your encyclopedic knowledge of what happens inside Berumi's worst prison. You remember the names. You saw the atrocities. Your government would surely bring this story to the international press. Saldana is a vain man. He might not care about what the U.S. thinks, but he cares about what the world thinks. He will also carefully guard against the day he might be in front of an international court."

"I know too much."

"Yes, you do."

McGee closed his eyes. "I understand."

"We promised each other honesty."

He swallowed. "We did."

"It is true that you are exactly the person who can bring this story to the world."

McGee wiped at the moisture on his face.

"Rest tonight, my friend. Things will happen very quickly after this."

…..

Ducky opened the door to his hotel room and sighed. "Thank God, Jethro! No one has seen you for hours. How did you find me?"

Gibbs walked past him. "It's a small island, Duck. They put you up someplace nice."

Ducky went for his phone. "They haven't seen you in nine hours. Did you walk here?"

"Like I said, it's a small island. Do you have room service?"

Ducky handed him a menu as he waited for the phone to answer. "Ziva, you were right. He came here. Give me a little time with him, and I'll call you. You can send a car."

Gibbs handed him the menu. "I want eggs, beans, whatever the hell they serve for breakfast here. And juice. I don't care what kind."

He disappeared into the bathroom and then Ducky heard the shower running. He came out about the same time that a large tray of food arrived. His clothes were still wrinkled, but he looked better. He sat down, took a bite of eggs, and chewed. Then he looked at Ducky. "What do you think McGee is getting for breakfast today?"

"Tony told me about his condition. He also told me how hard he was on you last night. He was out of line."

Gibbs pushed the black beans around his plate with his fork, but he didn't eat. "He was upset. He was just being Tony. He's got a deep heart, and he loves McGee like a brother. If I reacted sooner, I could've been the one to see McGee."

"And that would've been better?"

"I don't know." The eggs no longer held appeal and he sat back. "I watched Saldana very carefully yesterday. The man is impossible to read. He's unpredictable. Plays games. I don't think he has any intention of giving us McGee under any circumstances."

"Oh, I know. My team leader met with Monterros yesterday. The man seems to have no power in this country right now. We want to get into El Corazon, but he doesn't seem to have the ability to make it happen."

"I'm scared that we're not going to get to him in time."

"I don't have an answer for you. Good people die, Jethro. You and I have both seen that happen too many times. You survived the death of your wife and daughter. You will survive his death, if it happens."

"I don't think so, Duck. I don't think the team can ever recover. I left him and then came home and fumbled everything. I let other people take control when I knew that U.S. policy would stall any action. When I finally wake up, there's no time to do anything but jump into an ill-conceived mission. He's going to die and it's my fault."

Ducky shook his head slowly. "I have never seen you like this…even after Kate. Even then, you understood that Ari was a threat you couldn't fully control. This can only be your fault if you were in control of everything to begin with. Even the great Jethro Gibbs isn't arrogant enough to flaunt U.S. policy for his own needs."

"I thought about shooting Saldana myself. Thought about it for hours as I walked here. I am capable of doing it, you know."

"Of course. But then it wouldn't be just McGee's death we would be mourning but the death of you and Ziva and Tony. Tell me you didn't throw that plan away once you knew there was no way to get them safely before you did it."

He sighed. "This hurts a lot, Duck."

"For all of us. Please don't lose sight of the fact that you are the center of what makes us a family."

"Call Ziva. I better get back there so we can strategize. We have to find a way to outwit the beast."

…

Vance walked into the lab. It was usually pristine, but today there were takeout boxes and Caf-Pow containers littered all over the counters and a bag on the floor filled with thong underwear and bras. He winced and ventured in further. A bedroll was laid out on the ground with a stuffed Hippo at the head. Another bag sat next to the bedroll with a mess of tangled clothing.

"Do you know anything? Tell me you know something."

He turned abruptly to find her in the doorway in spider pajamas with a bath towel wrapped around her head.

He clasped his hands behind his back. "I don't know anything, Miss Scuito. I just wanted to confirm reports that you are using our Forensics Lab as a campground."

"I'm not leaving. You can't make me leave," she said as she grabbed the bag of underwear and shoved it under a counter.

"You can't live like this."

"Oh yes, I can. Until they come back, I am not going anywhere. I want to be right here when we hear something."

"You have to take care of yourself…Abby."

"They are my family. They mean everything to me."

"I understand," he said slowly. "But I am worried about you."

"You?" She stopped towel drying her hair to look at him.

"I am."

"Then you can understand why I need to be here."

He surveyed the room. "My wife is going grocery shopping. Make me a list. I'll get you something healthier than what I see here."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You can't survive on burgers and pizza. And for Pete's sake, limit the Caf-Pow. You're as jittery as a June bug. No wonder you can't ever relax."

She smiled. "Thanks Director Vance."

He shifted foot to foot. "I'm worried too."

"Gibbs will take care of them."

"He always does, doesn't he?"

"We're his family, you see. He always takes care of family."

"As it should be."

"Thanks again for stopping." She stepped forward. "We're not at the hugging stage yet, are we?"

He put up a hand. "Baby steps, Miss Scuito. Baby steps."

….

Tony looked up when the deck door opened. Gibbs stepped out in the bright sun.

"I'm sorry, Boss. I said things I didn't mean."

"Forget it, DiNozzo."

Tony got up from the deck chair. "I was so wrong. You have to forget all of it."

"You know how I feel about apologies," he said taking a seat. The ocean view was beautiful but none of that mattered. "Get Ziva. We don't have a good plan B so we gotta' talk out how to make plan A better than it is."

….

McGee struggled to hear the conversations happening at Paolo's cell door. There had been harsh whispers since early morning, and while he didn't understand much Portugese, he did know enough key phrases to understand the word courtyard said repeatedly.

The fever was gone but it had drained him, and it had taken all of his energy to crawl to the hole between the cells and listen. He called for Paolo, but the old man didn't answer him. Finally he drifted off to sleep.

It was late afternoon that he heard his name. He woke with a groan and turned his head to the hole. "Paolo?"

"How do you feel, my friend?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters very much. You have a big mission ahead of you."

"What does that mean?"

"Your days in this cell are over."

His heart jumped. "When are they coming for me?"

"Tonight."

"I don't understand. The executions happen in the afternoon."

"I made other arrangements for you."

McGee screwed up his face. "I don't understand!"

"They are coming soon and they will give you a shot. You must do everything they say."

"A shot? You make no sense. Is it your English?"

"No, McGee, they will give a shot, like a vaccine. I know what I am saying."

"Why?"

"Does it matter? All you need to know is it will make everything easier."

"I am a man. I don't need to be drugged. I want to look my executioner in the face."

"Do you trust me?"

Paolo."

"It's a simple question."

McGee sighed. "I trust you. You are all that I have left."

"Then do this for me. It will mean more than you know."

"Tell me. I feel like there is so much you are not telling me."

"Give me your hand."

McGee slid it through the hole, and Paolo kissed it and then patted it gently. "This is the last time we talk. I will be with you until they come."

"You don't have to protect me."

"But you are like my son, and in that capacity, it is important for me to do what I think best."

"How long before they come?"

"Very soon. Talk to me. Tell me about all of these people you call family. I wish to hear the stories one more time."

There was a lump in McGee's throat impossible to swallow. It took a few moments before he could make sound.

…

They came after dark, and he expected them to be rough as always, but these were men he didn't know and they spoke softly to him. Paolo spoke to him gently through the hole, urging him to cooperate. McGee was weak and grateful for any kindness, and he didn't fight when they extended his arm for the needle.

…

Saldana strode into the living room in full regalia. Today's sash was a blood red one. He ignored all of them and headed straight for Ziva, kissing her on both cheeks. "Ah, my beautiful one, you are my one tonic in a sea of chaos. Tell me that Laurent doesn't own your heart."

"It's good to see you, General," she said as she tactfully extricated herself from his arms.

"We'll have dinner this week with Laurent, of course. These other sour individuals are not invited."

"General, we know how busy you are-"

He wheeled on Pierce. "Do you, Laurent!? If you did, you would not pull me out of meetings for more nonsense!"

Pierce stood his ground. "Hanson assures me that the issue of the American, McGee, is crucial to our partnership."

Saldana turned to Gibbs. "Perhaps, you should be the new CEO. You seem to be pulling all the strings, Mr. Hanson."

"I know what it will take to get U.S. cooperation in our takeover bid. McGee is important to that end."

Saldana looked at Tony. "And you, Mr. Hagen. You saw the unfortunate Mr. McGee. How was your visit?"

Tony straightened. "Appalling. Mass murderers get better treatment in the U.S."

"Did you find him fragile?"

"Very."

"Well, that explains it then. Gentlemen, we will have to, as you say, stop barking up this tree because this dog won't hunt."

Tony looked at Gibbs. "We don't understand, General."

"I received word this morning that Mr. McGee passed away in the night. Undoubtedly, it was malaria, but my people tell me that your visit was quite stressful on him. I am sure it was a mitigating factor."

"He's dead?"

Saldana smiled. "My English is not 100%, but I thought I was quite clear. He died. He is no longer among the living. Better?"

Tony gripped the couch in front of him but didn't speak. Kort stepped forward. "This is quite a blow to all of us. McGee was our ticket to making Laurent a hero in the U.S. It would've made everything so much easier."

"There must be a body."

Everyone turned to Gibbs. "There must be a body, General. We need his body."

Saldana threw up his hands. "What do you care?! He can do nothing for you now."

"Bringing his body will mean something. It will mean something very important. Give us his body and we will bring him home."

Saldana shook his head. "Laurent, your people are crazy."

"Jack is right, General." Pierce's voice was shaky. "It will mean something for us to bring him home."

"You are relentless! All of you! I will think about it! Now get out before you all end up at El Corazon!" Saldana stormed out of the room.

….

The drive back to the villa was completely silent until Ziva started banging on the back of the driver's seat. She started yelling for the driver to stop in Portuguese. When the limousine came to a stop on the coastal highway, she tumbled out of the car and ran into the dunes. She fell down on her knees and threw up into the sand. Gibbs and Tony jumped out after her, dropping down beside her and holding her while she sobbed.

The driver turned to Pierce, "What is wrong with your friends?"

"Ah…I don't know."

Kort slapped the driver on the shoulder. "It's none of your damn business, Jorge. Now turn off the car and shut up until they come back."

….

Paolo found it difficult to walk after all those months in a cell. He was further hampered because his hands were tied tightly behind his back. Still, they were patient with him, and didn't push him much through the corridors. When he walked out into the sun, he shouted out in delight. He had seen the sun through his window, but he hadn't felt it in months. He breathed in the air of the courtyard and bent to smell the grass. The guards pushed him along until he was in the center. He was too lost in the beauty of fresh air to contemplate what came next, but the men positioned him and he was forced to face a man with a gun.

He was actually little more than a boy carrying a very large rifle. He seemed unsure of himself, issuing no orders. Paolo pulled away from his captors and walked toward him. "Raoul, look at me."

The young man shook his head, and as Paolo came closer, he could see the tears coursing down his face.

"It is okay, Raoul."

"You were my professor. It is wrong for me to do this."

"Shh! The alternative is to leave this task for a sadist like Shakespeare. Would you have that be my end?"

Raoul shook his head.

"Dispatch me with dignity, Raoul. I am both ready and very grateful to you."

"This wasn't the plan."

"Ah, but we have a better plan now. It is a plan for Berumi. Our country will rise again, my friend."

"My heart is broken, Professor."

"Be a soldier now and send me into the next life."

Finally, Raoul nodded. He stepped back and aimed. Paolo pointed his face to the sun and the boy unloaded his rifle into the old man's chest.

…..


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I am really struggling with my muse right now. Took forever to get this out and it was at the expense of more important things that needed doing. I hope that it feels right. Please let me know if you are still with me. Sheila

A Man Left Behind

Chapter 6

She stood in the doorway, her eyes soft and red. "Kort is jamming the bugs for now. It's too easy for us to make a slip…on a day like this. It's windy. They can tell themselves that is what is messing with their frequencies. We can talk if you want."

Tony lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling fan.

She shifted against the doorframe. "Gibbs won't speak to me. He just sits in the sand and stares out at the water."

"Leave him be."

"We can't do this, Tony. We can't isolate."

He sat up. "Come here."

She shook her head. "No."

He nodded and got off the bed. "I'm sorry. I just want to hug you, my sweet girl."

She let him fold his arms around her. He buried his face in her hair. "Gibbs needs to be alone right now. He doesn't know how to share this kind of pain. Trust me. I was there when Kate was killed. I know him."

She let out a ragged breath. "Please don't leave us, Tony. We need you so very much."

He rested his chin on top of her head. "I said some harsh things the other night. I'm sorry for that. I don't know what our future holds, but I guess we just have to take it one day at a time."

"Should we call Abby?"

"God no. We can't tell her something like this over the phone."

She looked up at him. "The beast called. He wants to have dinner with Laurent and I tomorrow night. I get the feeling that he would be most pleased if Laurent couldn't make it."

He stared back at her. "I'll kill him with my bare hands first."

"I think I can get him to give us McGee's body."

"It's not going to happen.

She pulled away. "I'm not asking for your approval."

"But I'm telling you that there is a limit and this is it. You are not going to spend time with him."

"We need to bring him home!"

Tony slammed into the wall with his palm. "Not like this!"

"Hey!" They both turned to find Kort standing there. "Even a jammed signal can pick up this nonsense. Take it outside!"

Tony took her arm and pulled her out onto the deck. She pulled away and trotted out to the sand. "I don't want to fight, Tony!"

He followed her. "Then stop it with the Mata Hari routine. It's not going to happen!"

"Leave me alone!" The wind whipped her hair across her face.

Gibbs was on his feet and heading toward them. "What the hell is going on!?"

Tony pointed. "The beast wants to have dinner with her! You know what that means!"

Gibbs turned to Ziva. "I expected that."

Tony threw up his hands. "Well, it's not going to happen!"

Gibbs kept his eyes on Ziva. "Yes, it is."

"Are you insane!?"

Gibbs glared at him. "Stop acting like a jealous boyfriend. Ziva understands this kind of dance better than either of us."

"What are you saying?!"

"I'm saying that this ain't her first rodeo. There are ways to do this where you don't have to compromise every part of yourself, and Ziva knows all of them."

She folded her arms. "Thank you, Gibbs. At least one of you has faith in me. I will set this up."

"No. We think it through. I'm tired of rushing headlong into everything."

Ziva shook her head. "Let's get it done! I hate this place! I hate everything about it. I just want to get him and bring him home."

"We all do."

"We don't say his name. I don't think I've heard his name all day. We don't talk about him."

Gibbs turned on him, finger in his face. "You ready for his funeral, DiNozzo 'cause I'm not! I don't talk about him 'cause we don't know anything yet. I don't talk about him 'cause we have to stay focused. If Saldana gives us a body, we can take him home and we can remember him like he deserves."

Ziva bit her lip. "He's right, Tony. We have to hold it in until we're home."

Tony took a deep breath and looked out on the water. "I thought I would be better at this. I knew it was coming, and I knew it would be tough, but I thought I could handle myself."

Gibbs walked over and surprised him by putting a hand on his shoulder. "You can. We all can. Imagine him talking in your ear. I do it and it helps. He'll tell you what to do, how to handle this. Listen to him."

Tony winced and stared at the surf. Gibbs stood next to him silently, only shifting when Ziva came around to the other side and hugged him tightly around his middle.

…

He felt something warm and rich in his mouth and he struggled to swallow, choking wildly. His eyes opened and he found himself in a large bed with two women staring at him, one with a spoon. "You are not a baby, American. Surely, you can swallow a little broth."

He looked around wildly. The hardness of his cell had been replaced by the opulence of a beautiful room. "What? Who are you?"

The woman in charge smirked at him. "Do you prefer the stench of your cell?"

"I don't understand."

She nodded at the other woman as she got up and paced the room. "Keep feeding the idiot."

Both women were Latina, but the sharp-tongued one was tall with a mane of wild hair and yellow-brown eyes.

This time he welcomed the spoon, swallowing a rich broth of chicken broth with flecks of potato. She pulled up another, but he stopped her. "Please! Where am I? What is happening?"

The tall one advanced on him. "We are your new captors!"

He rose up on his elbows. "Why?"

"The questions! The arrogance! Only from an American!"

The breath rose weakly from his chest. "Why?"

She shook her head, deflating slightly. "We saved you from the courtyard so that you could serve the people of Berumi."

"How?"

"As I see fit." She dropped into a chair and folded her arms. "Eat the soup. You are only bones."

McGee caved and allowed the woman on the bed to feed him the rest of the soup, but his eyes stayed on the angry one. The woman feeding him wiped his chin like a child, and on another day, he would've felt embarrassed, but he barely could marshal the strength to sit upright.

"What is your name?" He said softly to his nurse. She looked back at the angry one in confusion.

"Her name is Consuela and she doesn't speak English."

"And your name?"

She tossed her hair. "I am Eponine."

McGee frowned for a moment. "Paolo has a daughter named Eponine."

She shifted in her chair. "The old man mentioned me?"

"Yes."

She shrugged. "He was probably unkind in his thoughts of me. He didn't think much of me."

"Where's Paolo? He is here too?"

"No, he is not here. You are here instead of him."

"Please! Enough of the riddles! What is going on?"

She chuckled. "I bet you loved him. Everyone loved him. My amazing, talented father who hypnotized the world with his prose and his earthy wisdom."

"Where is he?"

"He is dead, you idiot. He traded his life for yours."

McGee slapped the clean sheets on his bed. "No!"

"You were just another pawn to him."

"Enough! Talk to me or get out!" Emotion rose in his throat.

She didn't move but Consuela got up slowly and left the room. For a long while, the two of them glared at each other in silence. Finally, Eponine sighed. "We knew the date of his execution, and we put everything into a plan to get him out. Not just because he was my father. We'd heard that the International Red Cross was sending a human rights team, and we knew they would never be allowed into El Corazon. Our plan was to get the old man out and have him meet with them. He could give testimony. News of the atrocities in this country would reach the world. A week ago, he balked. He insisted that you would be the better witness. You were younger, your memory was sharper, and you're American. Your story would mean something in the United States."

"He's really dead?"

"His execution was scheduled for this morning. My people argued with him forever, but he was steadfast. You were the one who could make a difference."

"He went to the courtyard?"

"All we could do was provide him with a friend for his final moments instead of a sadist."

Dry sobs heaved from his chest and he clutched at the sheets on the bed.

"We smuggled you into a resort hotel: the same hotel that houses the human rights team. I will be making contact with them, and arranging for you to videotape testimony for them. They can not get you out of Berumi. You are not saved. Eventually, Saldana's people will find you. We are not strong enough to protect you, but we can offer you a better ending than they will. You have a few days at the most."

He slowly turned onto his side away from her.

She stood. "For what it's worth, we have malaria medication for you and we will keep you well-fed. Consuela will stay with you while I make contact with the someone from the team."

He said nothing to her when she left.

…..

Ducky was out on his balcony, his bowtie still sitting in his lap. He'd made several attempts to prepare for the day, but he felt such a heaviness in his chest. Jethro woke him out of a sleep to tell him that McGee was presumed dead and the mission had shifted to one of recovering his body. The old man had suffered many losses. He didn't fear death. It was a natural extension of life. More than that, McGee's death meant that the poor boy's suffering was at an end.

Still, his pragmatism couldn't defeat the sadness in his heart at saying good-bye to the fresh-faced young man he'd known for so many years. He knew that if a body was recovered, his young friend would tell him a story of cruelty that would leave him breathless and he wasn't looking forward to that.

A knock sounded on his door and he sighed. He'd missed the meetings this morning with the human rights team. They were good people, but they were constrained by the byzantine rules of international relations, and he found their inaction stifling.

He opened the door to one of the younger members of the team and an exotic looking woman he'd never seen before. "Camille, I apologize for not coming down today. I have some things on my mind."

"Dr. Mallard, we have a big problem. Can you come with us, please?"

She looked very stressed.

"Camille?"

"Bring your bag, Doctor."

The woman with her looked up and down the hall nervously.

"Can you tell me anything?"

"Just come." She tugged on his sleeve.

He grabbed his bag and followed the two women down the hall and up an elevator. He tried to question her, but the other woman put her finger to her mouth sharply. He followed them into a room with the shades drawn. Someone was sleeping under a large comforter. He looked at the women. "Do I have a patient?"

Camille grabbed his arm. "I don't know what to do. This is Eponine. The man in the bed was rescued from El Corazon. If I tell the team leader, he won't let us help him. We can't get involved with anti-government forces. It's puts our mission at risk. We could all be arrested and I have tried to explain that to her, but she insists we interview him. I came to you because I have a feeling he is the man you have been seeking."

Ducky took a moment to digest it, and then he pulled away from her. He hurried to the bed and pulled back the covers. The figure in the bed stirred and his eyes opened. Ducky's breath caught. "Timothy!"

"Duck?"

A Berumian woman came in and began talking to Eponine in Portuguese. Eponine stepped forward. "His fever has started again. Do you have analgesics with you?"

"Dr. Mallard, I need to report this to the team leader."

He turned on Camille. "You will not say anything to anyone about this! Do you understand? This man is in grave danger."

"We are constrained by our mandate-"

"You are supposed to help us!" Eponine pointed a finger at her. "What good are you to us if you do nothing?!"

"Camille, you will return to the team and tell them that I am feeling under the weather but nothing more. No one will be at risk. I will take care of this."

"What can you do?"

"Just do what I say."

She closed her eyes. "Okay. I'll let you handle this."

"Good! If there is anything to be said to the team leader, I will do it. Now please go. You have work to do."

She nodded and edged away from Eponine as she went to the door. After she left, Eponine cursed loudly in Portuguese and then glared at him. "None of you care! You will leave my country at the mercy of a tyrant!"

He ignored her and grabbed his bag, climbing onto the bed beside McGee. "I need some light!"

She reluctantly turned on the light and paced restlessly as he examined McGee.

Ducky pulled the sheet off his torso and sat back. "Oh Timothy! I don't even know where to start."

McGee moaned. "How can you possibly be here? Nothing makes sense in my head."

"Let's work on getting your fever down and then we'll talk."

….

Gibbs could hear voices arguing inside the room as he pounded on the door. Tony tapped him on the shoulder, but Gibbs shook his head. Interdyne executives would definitely not be kicking down doors.

Finally, the door opened and Ducky peered out. "All three of you! We can't afford a spectacle."

"All I got was a message from you saying that it was urgent that we talk."

Ducky ushered them in urgently. They found an angry woman standing there, hands on her hips. "You will get us all killed, old man."

He turned on her. "Shut up, Eponine, before I have one of these nice people do it for you."

"Who is this woman!?" Ziva asked.

"She is both parts hero and witch, but she brings us a miracle."

Gibbs froze. "What does that mean?"

"His fever is high so I have him cooling in the bath. Please be gentle with him."

"Duck?"

"It's him."

Gibbs pushed past him and Tony started to follow, but Ducky caught his arm. "Give him a moment, Tony."

Inside the bathroom, Gibbs pulled back the shower curtain and found him sitting in murky bathwater. His thin torso was mottled with bruises and cuts. McGee lifted his head and stared. "Boss?"

Gibbs knelt. "Hey."

McGee frowned. "There's something wrong with your eyes."

"Contacts."

"And your hair?"

"It's a disguise."

"I don't like it."

Gibbs smiled. "Me neither."

McGee sighed. "I'm sick. Malaria."

Gibbs reached over and patted his damp cheek. "It's okay, Tim. We're going to get you well."

"Eponine says they'll find me soon."

He shook his head. "We're not going to let that happen."

"I'm not going back to El Corazon."

Gibbs cleared his throat. "I left you here, Tim, but that's not going to happen again. Do you understand? You don't have to worry about anything 'cause I'm taking you home."

McGee's chin trembled. "It wasn't your fault, Boss."

"Doesn't matter really 'cause it happened and it shouldn't have, and now my job is to get you home."

McGee nodded. "I'd like that."

Behind them the door opened, and Tony and Ziva piled through. "Sorry Boss. We had to see for ourselves."

"I'm not exactly dressed for visitors."

Ziva smiled through tears. "I think you look beautiful."

Tony shook his head. "From my perspective, I think I need to kick some asses for what they put you through."

Ziva could only get close enough to grab his leg. McGee startled. "Ziva!"

"Wait 'til I get the boss out of the way, Probie. I'm going to reach in and give you a big, wet, sloppy kiss on the mouth."

"Boss!" McGee gave him a stricken look.

Before Gibbs could respond, the argument in the bedroom heated up again.

"Get these people out of here!"

"They can help!"

"The American belongs to me and I say get them out of here!"

"He is not a possession!"

Gibbs was on his feet and pushing past Ziva and DiNozzo. He didn't stop until he was nose to nose with the wild Eponine. "You saved my agent, and I will be forever grateful, but be clear, Lady, that man doesn't belong to you. He's mine!"

She glared. "My father died so he could live. He will do what is necessary to help my nation. That is his only mission."

DiNozzo and Ziva came out of the bathroom supporting a robed McGee between them. She pointed at him. "He owes his life to Berumi."

Tony screwed up his face. "Who is this woman?!"

Ducky looked up as he helped Ziva get McGee into bed. "Her people got Timothy out of El Corazon. They want him to give testimony before the International Red Cross, but the circumstances of his escape makes it too dangerous for the team to interview him."

"Then I will find another way to use him!"

Ziva put a finger in her face. "Stop talking about him like that! This man is our friend."

McGee struggled to lean up on his elbows. "Stop the fighting, please. Eponine is right. Her father died to save me, and I owe him."

Eponine turned to Gibbs. "You have no resources in this country. I am the one who got him this far. How will you get him out? You can't fly him out. Airport security has tightened considerably since your little escape a few months ago. Will the U.S. Navy come for you? Huh? If your country cared, he would've been released a long time ago. So what is your plan? For a few thousand dollars, I can find you a boat small enough to evade Saldana's Navy, but will it be big enough for a trip all the way to Brazil in shark-infested waters. Tell me of your amazing plan to get this man home."

"You and I want the same things, Eponine. We both want Berumi free from Saldana. We have to learn to work together."

She pointed at McGee. "He knows what happens in that prison. He holds the most powerful stories of the human rights violations. Do not tell me that he is not important to my nation's future."

"He is not the enemy. He is a good man who has been through hell, and he is our friend. I understand how important he is to Berumi, but you must understand how important he is to us. Once we understand each other, we can work together."

"You need me more than I need you, American."

"Don't be so sure, Eponine."

…..

Gibbs paced the balcony in the dark, peering into the bedroom. "He's so restless in there. Why isn't the medication working?"

Ducky sighed as he fingered the shot glass full of whiskey in front of him. "He's malnourished and probably battling several secondary infections. It will take a few days to see real improvement."

"Paolo! Paolo!" Came muffled shouts from the bedroom.

"That man really meant a lot to him."

"Of course. He was the only kindness Timothy encountered in a world of terror. Their bond would've been strong."

Gibbs paced in silence while Ducky downed his shot of whiskey. "You don't have a plan, do you?"

"Does that bother you, Duck?"

Ducky took a deep breath and poured another drink. "Not tonight."

"Paolo! Please talk to me."

Gibbs shook his head and went into the bedroom. "McGee, can you hear me?"

McGee lifted his face from the pillow. "Paolo?"

Gibbs sat down on the bed beside him. "No, it's the boss."

McGee rubbed his face. "I got confused."

"It's okay. Paolo was a good guy."

"He was like you, Boss. He guided me. Helped me when I was lost."

"I'm grateful you had him there for you."

McGee frowned. "Why are you here? You're undercover. You're supposed to be an Interdyne executive."

"Not going to leave you alone again especially not with the she devil."

"Eponine has lost a great deal, and she's right about me owing her something. I do. I'm going to do what Paolo would want me to do."

He patted his arm. "You should rest, McGee. The sleep will help you get better."

McGee caught his hand and squeezed it. "I know you don't have a plan, Boss, and it's okay. I've spent a lot of time preparing for the end, and I am at peace with it."

"Well, it's not okay with me."

He shook his head. "Dying with me doesn't help anyone. There's no point to it. If there's no way to do this, then we accept it and say good-bye. You have to think of Tony and Ziva. What about Abby? Losing both of us would destroy her."

"Would you leave me if our situations were reversed, Tim?"

McGee hesitated. "I don't know how to answer that."

"It's complicated, isn't it?"

He nodded.

"Alright then. You sleep and I'll think. Hopefully, I'll have a plan by the time the sun comes up."

….

Ziva stood on the deck in the cool evening breeze and watched the two men face off in the surf. Despite the fact, they were only in it up to their knees, they were soaking wet all over. Tony had taken Kort down there in the roar of the waves to tell him that McGee was alive and it hadn't gone well. Ziva suspected that Kort said something insensitive because Tony tackled the CIA agent with a shout very early in the conversation. They'd rolled around in the wet sand for a few moments, but eventually they both gotten to their feet and tried again. In the wind, Ziva could catch pieces of their angry exchange, but they had taken to circling each other warily rather than engage in further assaults.

"Ziva?"

She turned to find Laurent.

"What's going on and where's Gibbs?"

"Do not call him that!"

"I apologize. Hanson. Where's Hanson?"

"You are tired of fighting with him. He's too rigid. He only sees one solution. You realize that he is obsessed with the retrieval of the American, McGee. Because of that, you have asked him to move into one of the hotels in town."

"I don't understand."

"You don't need to. Your job is to follow our directives to the letter and that is all." She noticed that Tony and Kort had ceased their posturing.

"I never meant for any of this to happen."

She narrowed her eyes at Laurent. "You are weak and greedy. You couldn't foresee this because you focused only on your own needs. I don't care about your apologies. I don't care if you become a better man. I only care that you are an effective tool in our mission."

"What do you want me to do?"

On the beach, the two men were standing next to each other, engaged in deep discussion. She relaxed. "You will know soon enough, Laurent. Please go inside and leave me in peace."

…..

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry to have left this so long. I had a rather serious infection about a month ago, and I thought I had caught it with the antibiotics, but it came back two weeks ago, and so I've been struggling to get back on top of it again. I appreciate anyone who is still able to follow the story. If you are still reading, I would love to know. There should be two more chapters. Sheila

A Man Left Behind

Chapter 7

Abby woke with a start at the touch on her shoulder. She stared into dim light of the early morning at the agent in charge of Vance's security detail. She couldn't place his name.

"Miss Scuito, the director wants you in his office now."

She nodded and scrambled to her feet. He disappeared while she searched one of her duffles for an unwrinkled shirt.

Minutes later, she was at his office door. She glanced up at the clock and noted that it was 5:30 a.m. She smoothed her hasty ponytails and entered.

Director Vance was seated at the head of his conference table looking remarkably put together for a man who probably hadn't been home since yesterday. To one side was Admiral James McGee and to the other was a man she didn't know. She was most definitely not dressed for the occasion.

The admiral looked up. "Abby, come sit next to me."

She froze. "Do you know something?"

Vance stood. "It's good…but very complicated."

"He's alive? They are all alive?"

Vance smiled. "As of 60 minutes ago, everyone is alive and accounted for."

She sagged against the table. "Oh God."

The admiral got up and put his arm around her. "I know exactly how you feel, but we have a long road ahead and we need your help."

"Anything," she whispered as he led her to a chair.

The man across from her reached over and shook her hand. "My name is Sheldon Parks. I'm the CEO of Interdyne."

She nodded and turned to Vance. "What do you know?"

"It's complicated. I had a very short call with Gibbs, and he said that they were unsuccessful in ransoming McGee from Saldana. However in a remarkable twist, a resistance group rescued him and has made contact with the team."

"How is he?" Abby was hardly able to stay in her seat.

"He's not good. Sick with malaria, suffering from malnutrition: Gibbs informed that he's been tortured. It's imperative that we get him out of there."

"Sons of bitches," James McGee muttered under his breath.

"We have to get him out of there now!"

"Agreed. The question is how."

There was a beep on the intercom and Vance hit a button, turning on the plasma. "This must be Gibbs. He was going to try and find a secure channel."

Gibbs came on looking tired in a way that hair color and contacts couldn't hide.

"Gibbs!" Abby was on her feet.

"You feeling confident about this connection?" Vance said.

"Ducky and I borrowed a little technology from the International Red Cross. Luckily, we had a geek with us to assist."

"Where is he? I want to see him."

"He's pretty sick, Abbs. He's sleeping now."

"Just a little peek."

"Stay focused!" he barked. "I don't want you to get distracted by a look at what they did to him."

She sucked in breath but said nothing more. Admiral McGee reached over and took her hand.

"What do you think are best options are, Gibbs?"

Gibbs shook his head. "I want to put him on a plane, but I don't know how. The only possibility is an Interdyne flight."

Parks shook his head. "That can't happen. I have 437 Americans on Berumian soil. If he gets discovered, every one of them is at risk for arrest by Saldana."

Gibbs sighed. "I know."

"Parks is right, Gibbs. What about getting him out by boat?"

Admiral McGee leaned forward. "I've looked into the possibility. I wanted to be prepared just in case, but the news is not good. We can't use Navy vessels, and the private security firms I have contacted will need weeks for planning. Even then, Berumi is a small island, and it will be hard to land anywhere undetected."

"We don't have weeks. We pressured Saldana to give us McGee's body. His people have probably already figured out that Tim escaped. There's going to be a manhunt, and our team is going to be under scrutiny. He already considers me to be a problem."

"Imagine that," Vance responded drily.

Parks stood. "I have an idea. Monterros has been paralyzed the last few months. My dear friend is afraid that Saldana is preparing a bullet for him. It has not been his finest hour. Let me contact him. I can talk to him about this; let him know that McGee's testimony could strengthen his position internationally. I am sure he has enough influence left to get him out of the country."

"That's a big risk," said the admiral.

Gibbs swiveled his head at a noise off camera. "We don't have a lot of choices, people. I don't know how secure this resistance group is, and I don't have the resources to hide him elsewhere."

Vance nodded to Parks. "Contact Monterros."

"I'll try to check in again at 2200 hours."

"Gibbs!" The admiral stood. "Tell him…tell him that getting him home safe is the only thing I care about. Tell him that his dad loves him."

Gibbs nodded and the screen went blank. Abby turned to Vance. "I don't know what I am supposed to do."

"I want a new set of passports for all of them, just in case. I have a feeling that the twists in this rescue are only just beginning."

….

Gibbs came back into the suite, and found McGee sitting up, trying to explain to Consuela that he could feed himself. She just batted his hands away and continued spooning soup into his mouth. Eponine stood against the wall, arms folded. She glared at him. "You were in contact with your people. I should've been there. McGee is my responsibility."

He shook his head. "Let's not do this again. We're not going to spend the day fighting over whom he belongs to. There is too much at stake here."

"Which is why I should've been there."

"I don't trust you yet and you don't trust me. Why don't you start by telling me who the hell you are, and maybe we can get somewhere."

"You arrogant American!"

Gibbs looked through the bag of groceries on the table and pulled out some bread and juice. "You said all that yesterday. We need a fresh conversation, Eponine."

"I owe you nothing."

"You are the daughter of a literature professor. What else?"

She tossed her head. "I'm much more than Paolo Fuentes' daughter. I am a government official."

"Really? You're standing there in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. What kind of official are you?"

"I work for President Monterros as his press liaison, but the old man has given up on anything but trying to stay alive. So there is very little to do at present."

"Does he know what you are doing?"

"No. He is oblivious."

"You're angry with him."

"Which is worse? A country run by a tyrant or one run by someone too frightened to act. At times, it is unclear to me which is the greater threat to Berumi."

"You must have access to news outlets all over the world. Why did you need the International Red Cross to tell your story?"

"You don't know much about public opinion, do you? I need a neutral vessel through which to carry testimony of Saldana's atrocities to the world. If I used local resources, it would be both dangerous and open to scrutiny."

"Fair enough. Do you know Saldana personally?"

She threw back her head and moaned. "Yes, I know the pig. I have known him for years. He used to be merely comical until he got a taste for blood. Power made him attractive to women, and then conquest became his favorite sport. He pursued me for years unsuccessfully, and then my father caught his attention with his leftist rhetoric. I tried to get the old man to stop, but he wouldn't. The only thing I could do to keep my father out of jail was to give in to Saldana. It worked for awhile, but the beast got bored. I was discarded and my father got arrested."

"Do you have any influence over him now?"

"I would have no reason to see him now except to stab him in the eyeball."

Eponine, Saldana is a vain man. If we play to his vanity, we might be able to buy more time. We need to know what will distract him."

"A woman will never fully distract him. We are accessories for him, nothing more."

"What else does he want?"

She thought for a moment. "He was born in Portugal. He loves the old country. More than anything, he wants the respect of the Portuguese people. The government refuses to indulge him because of his human rights record. They will only communicate with Monterros. It is one of the main reasons Monterros still breathes."

"What would this respect look like?"

She sighed. "There is a Portuguese journalist that he has always wanted me to bring to Berumi. He has always wanted this man to profile him. He is convinced that a positive story from this journalist will give him the respect he deserves."

"Can you make this happen?"

"This man has no interest in accommodating Saldana, and if he came, his story would not be a positive one."

"Is there a way to get Saldana to believe this man is coming and that he wants to do a flattering profile of Saldana?"

She shook her head.

"Think Eponine!"

"Why? Why does this matter?"

"Because getting McGee's testimony isn't enough. You have no real plan here. What were you going to do with him after he gives testimony? Were you going to drown him in the bathtub? Were you going to drop him off on the side of the highway? You knew that If they found him alive, they would find you!"

"What does it matter!? My country is in ruins and no one cares. My father is dead. Getting that testimony out is my only plan. What happens next is of no consequence to me!"

McGee pushed Consuela away. "Eponine, listen to me. I lay on the floor in a cell for eight weeks and talked to your father. That's all we did. We talked and when we did, he talked about you a great deal. He saw you as the future of Berumi. Destroying Saldana doesn't mean much if you and other good Berumians aren't around to rebuild it."

Her mouth twitched and then she turned to Gibbs. "The Portuguese journalist is Augusto Azul. What do you want of him?"

"I want Saldana distracted. I want him to think that this man is coming and that he is planning a positive story."

"It's a tough sell."

"Work on it, Eponine! Make it happen!"

She rolled her eyes and stomped out of the room. Gibbs sat down next to McGee's bed. "Thanks for the save."

McGee sighed. "We talked hours every day for weeks. I thought I knew everything about him. The truth is that he only mentioned Eponine once or twice. Said he didn't understand her."

"She hasn't been very good to you. I'm not sure she deserved that."

"I know what it's like to be the son of a great man, and to feel like he sees everything but you."

"Don't be so sure, Tim. I saw your father's face today. He is prepared to risk everything to bring you home."

Tim swallowed hard. "You've all worked so hard."

He patted McGee's hand. "You're worth it."

"I spent a lot of time preparing to die, Boss. It it's not possible to get me out of here, we have to talk about leaving me behind."

Gibbs shook his head. "We risked everything to get here. We're not walking away."

"Dying alongside me doesn't help me. You have to think of Abby. Can you imagine how scared she must be?"

"I just saw Abby's face. My job is to bring you home to her. Pure and simple."

He smiled. "I thought about her so much while I was in that hellhole. There are so many things I should've said to her when I had the chance. We live life like it's going to last forever, and so often we hide from our feelings from the ones who matter the most. I spent a lot of time in El Corazon thinking about how foolish it was just sitting on those feelings all these years."

"Well, you know how I feel about rule 12," Gibbs said with a hint of a smile.

"If I make it out alive, I think you're going to have to suck it up, Boss."

…..

"Why is Hanson not staying here at the villa, Laurent?!" General Saldana paced in front of him in the living room.

"We came to an impasse. I thought it would be best if he stayed in the city." Pierce's eyes darted to Kort nervously.

"What impasse? It concerns me, Laurent. I wish to know the issue that separates your team."

Tony watched as Pierce struggled to handle their unexpected houseguest. The general had barged into their villa only minutes earlier, and Pierce was left to improvise, a skill he clearly didn't have.

Laurent took a deep breath. "He was obsessed with the return of the American, McGee. When it was clear that we couldn't rescue a living American, he became disillusioned. I asked him to move into a hotel because there was too much fighting happening here."

"Good! You are finally showing a backbone, Laurent. Now send him home."

Kort stood. "We still need him in country. His contacts in the State Department are invaluable.

"I do not like him!"

"We'll keep him away from you, General," Kort said.

"And as for this returning of a dead body, I will not accommodate that because he was a spy. It is an indulgence that rubs me the wrong way."

"We're disappointed, General. We think it might really help."

Saldana turned on Tony. "I do not want to hear anymore about it, Hagen."

Tony nodded his head slowly. Then a door opened and Ziva emerged from the bedroom in a white string bikini and a black mesh cover-up that left nothing to the imagination. She smiled as she walked by the general. "You are like an angry tornado, General. Although, perhaps there is a better word. You don't have tornados in Berumi, do you?"

The General stared at her with undisguised lust. "I had hoped to see you, Cassia. You are more beautiful with every visit."

She wrapped her arms seductively around Laurent. "I thought we were going to dine with the general very soon. I've grown bored in this little paradise."

The general cleared his throat. "Laurent is clearly very busy. There is no reason you should wait. Tomorrow night, my car will pick you up at 6 p.m. and I will show you every pleasure Berumi has to offer."

She looked up at her boyfriend, "Laurent?"

Pierce nodded. "Of course, you should go, Cassia. The general is right. We are going to be working day and night."

Tony felt his heart pound in his chest, and he struggled to keep his expression relaxed.

"It's decided then," Saldana said with a broad smile. He extended a hand and Ziva took it. "We'll have a night to remember."

He let go of her hand with a smile, nodded at the rest of them, and marched out of the room. Tony stared up at the ceiling for a long moment before taking the lamp off the table next to him and slamming it into the wall. Broken pieces scattered across the tile floor.

Kort sighed. "Feel better?"

He shook his head and stormed out the back door. Ziva took a deep breath and followed.

….

Gibbs saw soldiers appear on the beach, armed with automatic weapons. He was standing ankle deep in the surf talking on the phone with Vance, and he slowly bent down like he was looking for shells, and he let his phone slide into the receding water. It was the biggest piece of evidence they could find. He scooped up a shell and stood.

The soldiers were spreading out on the beach, poking guns into beach totes and generally frightening the swimmers. His eyes darted to the parking lot and he saw two large trucks. There had to be at least three dozen soldiers there. Seeing only 8 on the beach meant that most of them were inside the hotel and his gut seized.

He'd left McGee with Consuela and Ducky half an hour ago. Before he could develop a plan, one of the soldiers pointed at him and shouted. Heads went up and several men with guns came trotting at him. He offered no resistance when they surrounded him. He needed to play the role of the indignant businessman.

One of the men stepped forward. "You are Jack Hanson."

He nodded. "I am."

"Handcuff him."

"What the hell is going on?! I know General Saldana!" Gibbs shouted as two soldiers cuffed him.

The soldier nodded. "It is the very General who has asked us to check on you. He doesn't trust you."

"I want to talk to him. At the very least, I need to talk to my supervisor, Laurent Pierce, with Interdyne."

A soldier poked his rifle in his back, propelling him forward. "We'd like a look at your hotel room."

Gibbs felt relief flood through him. There was nothing in his room but the suitcase he put there. Once they pushed him into the hotel, it was clear that it wouldn't be so simple. Tourists were crowded at the front desks loudly complaining about soldiers demanding to search their rooms. He knew then that they were actively looking for McGee, and they suspected him in his escape.

They pushed him into a chair in the lobby while they crowded in the corner to talk. People were milling around everywhere. There was a middle-aged woman with a sunburned nose sitting in the chair next to him, eying him warily. He darted his eyes in her direction. "Do you have a phone?" he mumbled.

She looked at the unorganized soldiers arguing in the corner and nodded.

"Pick it up and dial 1-545-684-9909, please."

She slowly picked up her phone and dialed, her eyes wide.

"Tell the man on the other end that Hanson is in trouble. Soldiers searching hotel. Tell Saldana to stop them."

The woman spoke quietly into the phone with a British accent. Then she hung up. He looked at her and mouthed, "Thank you."

One of the soldiers was back, frowning. He looked at the woman. "Is he bothering you?"

The woman shook her head. "Did he do something wrong?"

"It is not your concern, Ma'am. Did he say anything to you?"

She shrugged. "He just said that it was all a mistake."

"Your room is clear, Ma'am. May I ask you to return to it?"

The woman gathered up her towel, and hurried off. The soldier sat down in the empty chair. "My soldiers are in your room now. Perhaps, you would like to tell me what they will find. I can promise that your cooperation will be meaningful to us."

Gibbs leaned over. "You will find clothes, toiletries, and a briefcase. Nothing else."

"You work for the U.S. government."

"I work for Interdyne."

The soldier slapped him in the face hard. Everyone in the lobby gasped. Gibbs took the hit and stared right back at him. "This is going to do wonders for the tourist trade."

"Cala-te!"

"I'm an American citizen!" Gibbs said loudly. "Please report this incident to your embassy!"

The soldier swung at him again and he let out a groan, making sure everyone heard it. Other soldiers tried to herd people into elevators. Gibbs looked around the room and caught sight of something extraordinary. She was striding toward them in a Chanel suit and tasteful gold jewelry: her unruly hair twisted skillfully into a bun.

She stopped in front of them and began a tirade in Portuguese directed at the soldier. From the hand gestures and indignation, Gibbs could tell she was dressing him down for the spectacle in front of hotel guests. At first, the soldier tried to power struggle, but his energy was no match for hers. He pulled orders out of his pocket and she slapped them to the ground and stomped on them with a very expensive high heel. He pulled out a phone and dialed a number. Gibbs heard the name Saldana as the soldier handed it to her. She snatched it from him and continued her litany of abuse. Gibbs watched in fascination as she volleyed with the general. Finally, the conversation slowed, and she handed it back to the soldier. He winced at the voice on the other end, mumbled apologies, and then hung up. He gestured for a colleague to uncuff Gibbs and pulled him to his feet.

The soldier stood, "I have been instructed to apologize on behalf of General Saldana. We were given orders that were unclear. We apologize for any inconvenience. The government of Berumi will pick up your hotel tab for the rest of your stay in our beautiful country."

"Have you searched my room?"

"We have."

"Then you know that I am nothing more than an employee for Interdyne."

"Yes sir."

"I would like to return to my room."

"Of course, sir." The soldier stood aside and let Gibbs pass. Eponine followed, pretending to introduce herself as she got into the elevator with him.

Once the elevator was moving, he turned to her. "McGee."

"In the laundry room under a mountain of dirty sheets."

He relaxed against the wall.

"Consuela will bring him up when the soldiers are all gone."

"No one can see him in the corridors."

"Of course. We're not idiots. Let's go to your room and talk."

He let her in and they surveyed the carnage. Every item of clothing was out and thrown about the room. He shook his head. "They have no discipline. If there was something to find, they would never know what it is."

She sat down on a bed and crossed her legs. "I contacted Augosto Azul in Portugal, and promised him a story he couldn't resist. He gets on a plane tomorrow."

"Does Saldana know?"

"I talked to the pig. He thinks it is Azul's idea to come."

"He doesn't question your motives."

"He thinks I fear him now. He is enjoying my obedience."

"You didn't sound like you feared him on the phone in the lobby."

"I am a press liaison. It is my job to protect the image of my president as well as the country. It was an idiotic move to search the hotel like this. It is why I hid him here. I thought there was no way he would do this in front of foreign visitors. I was wrong."

"Can you make sure it gets out to a few new outlets so that he's embarrassed?"

"Of course. There is a large contingent of British tourists. I will leak it to the BBC."

There was a knock on the door. Gibbs got up and looked through the peephole. He quickly unlocked the door and Tony, Ziva, and Kort came in. Gibbs looked behind them. "Where is Pierce?"

"We left him in the bar once we realized the soldiers were leaving. I don't think he can handle any more surprises."

"You sure he's okay?"

Ziva rolled her eyes. "He had a bottle of Chilean wine in front of him that he was nursing like a baby. He'll be just fine."

Tony looked around the destroyed room. "Where's McGee?"

"Under a pile of dirty laundry."

"Ewww!"

There was another knock and Gibbs jumped to the door. He looked through the peephole and deflated visibly, and he opened the door to let in Consuela pushing a large laundry cart. Ducky followed. "We thought it best to bring him here. We know it is one place that has been thoroughly searched."

Hands reached in and uncovered McGee. They pulled him to his feet and helped him to the bed. Once on the bed, he pushed people away in irritation. Tony watched him. "You okay, Tim?"

"I'm tired of this. I want this to be over. No more fear. No more hiding. I want it done!"

"Hey! It's okay." Gibbs sat down beside him.

He shook his head. "It's not. Everyone is at risk. Look at Consuela there. They would've shot her dead if they'd found us. We can hardly communicate, but she has been nothing but kind to me. What about her family? What about all of you? I'm done!"

Consuela looked at Eponine in confusion.

Gibbs nodded. "We got a plan. Monterros is arranging to get you out on his private yacht tomorrow night. It's over, Tim. We're just waiting for the ride."

"You mean it?"

"We got a rendezvous set for 9 p.m. tomorrow night. We're going to put you on, and then the rest of us fly out the next day."

McGee nodded. "Good. I have one thing to do before I get on that boat. Eponine, I owe you my story."

"There is a journalist coming from Portugal tomorrow."

Gibbs shook his head. "We don't have time for that. Saldana will be all over him. There will be no way to get him here."

"Boss, this happens before I leave. I owe this to Eponine and her father. We don't know if I'm going to make it out of here. The story happens now."

"Ducky?"

"The Committee wants to leave tomorrow. Let me talk to the chair. Perhaps, I can convince to do the interview despite the circumstances."

"Please Ducky. I need to do this."

Ducky nodded and left the room. Ziva shook her head. "This doesn't feel right. I don't want you giving up."

"I'm not, Ziva. Ten weeks, I've been a victim. This is the one thing that I can do that will help this country. I'm not going to risk that I won't have another chance. We do it now."

Eponine whispered something to Consuela who took the laundry cart and left. "I underestimated you, McGee."

McGee leaned heavily against the headboard. "Let's just do it."

….

Gibbs leaned over the balcony and watched tourists lounge in beach chairs. There was an uncharacteristically cool wind blowing, and people were reaching for cover-ups. He couldn't remember a time that he'd ever stayed in a hotel for the purpose of sitting in sand and staring out at water. People called these things vacations.

"Boss."

He turned his head and squinted at Tony.

"Ducky talked to the head of the International Red Cross team. They're going to set up and do the interview."

He nodded.

"If this journalist is coming tomorrow, there's no reason for Ziva to dine with Saldana."

He looked at Tony. "The journalist will be tired from the flight. Ziva should keep her date."

"Why?"

"Because we're not talking about your girlfriend here. We're talking about a highly trained agent. She needs to keep that date."

"She's not invincible."

"He's not either, and I'd bet on her over him any day of the week."

"I'm going with you to the rendezvous with Monterros' yacht."

Gibbs shook his head. "No. You're going to wait for Ziva, and then all of you are getting on an early morning flight out of Berumi."

"You're going to be on it too."

The edge of his mouth twitched. "Yeah. Me too."

"God, I can't wait until we're all home."

Gibbs looked him in the eye. "I wasn't wrong to leave him before. I had to do it, but I couldn't live with it because it was painful. Sometimes, you have to be strong enough to walk away, Tony."

"What does that mean? We're all getting out of here."

He nodded slowly. "Unexpected things happen. When that flight gets ready to leave day after tomorrow, you and Ziva are on it, no matter what. You hear me?"

"Nothing is going to happen, Boss."

"Don't disappoint me, Tony. I need to know you'll do the right thing even if it's hard."

"I don't like this conversation."

Gibbs leaned in close. "I better be able to count on you when the time comes."

Then he pushed away from the railing and walked back into the room.

….

McGee insisted on dressing and sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, backlit with a camera. A white haired man from Belgium was sitting across from him asking preliminary questions. The team was lined against the back wall.

McGee looked past his interviewer. "It might be better if you all went somewhere else while I did this."

Tony shook his head, arms folded across his chest. "We want to know all of it."

The interviewer nodded his head. "They will all sign affidavits as witnesses. Normally, my team would act as witnesses, but it's not safe to involve them. We'll take the tape when we fly out tomorrow."

Gibbs nodded. "Dr. Mallard will carry it."

Ducky looked at him in alarm. "I should stay with the rest of you."

"No way, Duck. We're closing down the shop. We'll be following only a few hours later."

The interviewer turned back to Tim. "Are you ready?"

McGee nodded.

"We've gone over the details of your presence in Berumi. Tell me about the first instance of your rights being violated."

McGee nodded. "It was at the airport. My boss, Gibbs, had boarded a plane with two teen-agers. I was getting ready to follow and an official asked me to stay back for some questions. He was suspicious and I was worried that he would discover that the adolescents with us with U.S. Navy dependents. I was able to answer the first few questions, but I could sense his distrust. Then I saw the soldiers start for the gate, and the plane was getting ready to taxi. I didn't know what else to do so I yelled something to get their attention and I started running away from the gate. It got their attention. Guards started chasing me. I was tackled by several men. I was kicked and punched. Then I was pulled to my feet and held while a man butted me in the gut with his rifle."

"How long did this go on?"

He shrugged. "I don't remember. I blacked out periodically. I was dragged to different rooms. Men in uniforms yelled at me all hours of the day and night. I was beaten so often I stopped registering the pain. I have no real organized memories until they took me to El Corazon."

Ziva slipped her hand into Tony's and squeezed tightly.

"Tell me about El Corazon."

McGee took a deep breath. "I want to start with the courtyard. I've memorized names and events. I want you to tell you of the people who were dragged into the courtyard and of the monsters who tortured and killed them…"

The interviewer nodded. "Okay, Mr. McGee. Take your time. I want to hear everything."

…..


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I am always avoiding legitimate work for you guys. ;) Partly, because I like avoiding work, and partly, because I want to honor your commitment to this story. My health is improving and so I am working to get back on track. It's still complex and I think there are interesting things happening in this chapter. Believe or not, the next chapter is the last one. Tell me what you think if you wish. Sheila

Warning: There is an uncomfortable sexual encounter within this chapter.

A Man Left Behind

Chapter 8

Gibbs lifted his head sharply in the dark of the early morning. Sleeping in an armchair was never ideal, but he'd certainly been in worse places. Visions of men torturing McGee had been ambushing his sleep ever since he closed his eyes. Listening to McGee's testimony had taken its toll.

He sat up and blinked into the darkness. His eyes adjusted and he looked at the bed. It still amazed him that McGee was with them. The sheets were rumpled and he had a hard time spotting McGee's shaggy head. Then he was on his feet when he realized he couldn't see what wasn't there. The bed was empty. He crossed to the bed and pulled open the door. The light was on, but the room was empty. Breathe rose in his chest and he tried to imagine where McGee had gone. Ducky's room was up two flights and it would've been folly for him to wander the hallways on his own.

He opened the door and looked up and down the hallway. It was dim and deserted. He started toward the elevator when he heard a noise. He turned and saw a Berumian man signaling to him from an emergency exit. He remembered the man to be one of the porters from the lobby. It had all the hallmarks of a trap, but he couldn't help thinking that Saldana would never be this subtle. He trotted over to the exit, and the man put a finger to his lips. He followed him up several flights of steps and through a metal door to the roof. It was a cool night and the stars shown brightly around an almost full moon. The roar of the surf sounded in the background as he followed the man across the roof. There were old beach chairs in a circle at the center of the roof filled with hotel staff drinking rum and laughing. They looked up as he passed but said nothing.

Around a large air conditioning unit, he spotted Consuela leaning against a vent and a man with a baseball cap sitting in a beach chair staring out at the surf. The lankiness of his form was all McGee and Gibbs deflated. He walked past Consuela and looked down at McGee. "You were about gave me a heart attack."

McGee looked up. "Sorry Boss."

Gibbs set down on the concrete roof next to him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"My Portuguese is improving. I was able to tell Consuela that I wanted to see the moon and she arranged it."

"This is pretty dangerous, Tim."

"I haven't been outside in three months."

"You could've waited another day. Moon looks great in Virginia."

"Ya' think?"

Gibbs gestured to the group huddled around the rum. "We can't trust everyone."

"They're all pretty much related to Consuela. We certainly didn't get down to the laundry room on our own yesterday."

"So you just wanted to see the moon?"

"You all sat through 4 hours of testimony."

"That was pretty hard for you, wasn't it?"

"Actually, I was wondering how it was for you."

Gibbs looked up at the moon. "Painful."

"How can it possibly be good for all of you to know those things?"

He took a deep breath. "We are a team and a family. We needed to be there."

"No one said anything when it was over."

"Hard to know what to say. All I know right now is that you are here and you're alive. I don't have time for the rest of it."

McGee studied him. "You're worried that the yacht isn't coming for me."

"You think you know me that well?"

"I do."

Gibbs shrugged. "I guess I just think we should have a plan B."

"Do you know what that is?"

His mouth twitched. "Not a clue."

McGee nodded slowly. "Well then I'm glad I came up to see the moon. Who knows when or if that opportunity's coming my way again."

Gibbs squinted at the horizon. "Sun's coming up."

"I suppose I'd better get back to the room."

"Oh, I figure it won't hurt us to sit through a sunrise. Tourists sleep in, don't they? It's important to find time for things like this."

McGee nodded and turned his attention to the warm colors gathering along the edge of the ocean.

…

Tony stood at the doorway to the bedroom and watched Ziva and Kort sitting on the bed talking in whispers. "Would you like me to close the door and give the two of you some privacy?"

"Tony, you're supposed to be sitting with Laurent."

"He's sitting on the deck feeling sorry for himself. There's nothing to watch."

"Do it anyway," Kort growled.

"Is there anything likeable about you, Kort? I mean, does your mama like you?"

Kort shook his head and looked away. Ziva got up off the bed. "We have less than a day. No more fighting."

He gestured with his head. "What were the two of you talking about?"

"Keep your voice down. The place still has bugs," she hissed at him as she walked by. He followed her onto the deck. Laurent was staring out at the water, his head in his hands, but they ignored him. Ziva jumped off the stairs into the sand and he followed.

"If you're going to kill him tonight, I have a right to know."

"I'm not killing him tonight," she retorted.

"We'll never get on that plane alive if you do."

She flashed her dark eyes at him. "He's evil. He doesn't deserve to live."

"Agreed."

"I'm not planning to kill him this evening, Tony."

He stuffed his hands in his shorts' pockets. "We should. The people of Berumi deserve better."

"It's not our decision to make."

She put a hand on his arm and stopped him. "What are we going to do if Monterros' yacht doesn't come for McGee tonight?"

"I want to go with Gibbs to get him on that yacht, but he's really adamant that he do this alone. Besides, I want to be nearby in case you need backup."

"You're not answering my question."

Tony squinted up at the sun. "I'm not leaving this country without him."

She nodded. "Me neither."

He took her hand. "Ziva."

She shook her head. "No. I can't have this conversation with you. We have to proceed with confidence. We're going home tomorrow and he's going to be waiting for us, and we'll be a team again."

"So we'll have this conversation then?" Tony brushed a curl behind her ear.

She smiled. "I suspect that in the light of day, this conversation will be no longer be so urgent. It's what we always do, you and I."

He nodded. "I suspect you're right."

She patted him softly on the chest and walked back to the house. He stared after her and whispered, "I love you."

The trade winds carry sound in funny ways, and she suddenly stopped, and his breath caught as he realized that she must have heard him. Instead of turning though, she merely bowed her head and kept walking.

….

They still had access to Ducky's room after he left. Gibbs had spent much of the morning packing the SD card securely into Ducky's luggage so it wouldn't be discovered at the airport. Ducky had fussed quite a bit, reluctant as he was to leave McGee, but Gibbs pretended enough confidence to get him on the shuttle to the airport.

McGee was still resting in Gibbs' room so he waited in Ducky's until she showed. She was in power clothing again, a silk print that emphasized her curves and gold jewelry that shimmered against her brown skin. Her curls had been transformed into waves cascading down her back. She sat on the bed and crossed one long leg over another. "I look good to you, no?"

"You look good."

"If it were only a different time," she said wistfully.

He shook his head. "Stay focused."

She threw back her head and sighed, her ample bosom heaving. "Can you blame me? We are living on borrowed time, you and I."

"Did you find out what I asked?"

"Yes, you were correct about everything."

He nodded slowly. "What is Azul's itinerary?"

"He arrives in a couple of hours. I am putting him up in the honeymoon suite here. Tomorrow morning, I prep him and he goes to meet with Saldana. The interview should take a few hours and then I drive him and his crew to the airport."

"How much does Azul know?"

"Nothing. I have promised him a big scoop on the subject of human rights."

"You were going to give him a copy of McGee's testimony."

"Naturally, he expects something bigger. A mere tape is not worth flying across the Atlantic to interview a wannabe dictator for a distinguished journalist like Augosto Azul."

"He's going to get the biggest scoop of his career."

She narrowed her eyes. "Give me details, Gibbs."

He shook his head. "It's still coming together for me. We work it hour to hour. I'll tell you more soon. Keep your passport with you."

She ran her fingers across the bare skin under her neck. "I'm not leaving my country."

"He'll kill you once he finds out what you've done."

She shrugged. "I feel very little about this idea. I'm so tired and so disgusted at myself. I watched all of this take shape over the years and I said nothing. It wasn't until my father began to protest that I even got angry, and when I did, I turned it at him."

He leaned forward in his chair. "You're doing something now, Eponine."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "What if you and I had met under better circumstances? What would you have thought?"

"I would've thought that you were a very beautiful, arrogant, and infuriating woman, and you would've looked through me like I was a piece of furniture."

Her eyes popped open and she studied him. "Don't be so sure. This quality… this presence of yours- I suspect you carry it on you no matter the circumstances."

He smiled. "I knew a woman like you once. A redhead named Jenny. Danger was like an aphrodisiac to her."

She stared at him, eyes dark and wide. "I don't have to get in the limousine for another hour."

He stood. "I'm still working the plan, Eponine. Another time and another place, and I would follow you anywhere."

He took her hand and pulled her up and into his arms. He breathed in the smell behind her ear and then gently bit the lobe. "Bring your passport with you. When I get you out of here, I'm going to show you exactly what I'm capable of."

He gently pushed her back onto the bed and left the room.

…

He was there to greet her when she stepped out of the car. As usual, he was dressed in a uniform bastardized to his own tastes, and Ziva wrinkled her nose slightly at the stench of expensive cologne radiating off him. She wore a tight fitting white dress in a Grecian style with one shoulder strap. She wanted to look both classic and slightly primitive.

"You are a goddess, my dear Cassia."

She smiled. "I'm glad you could find time for me. Poor Laurent is too busy for a nice dinner."

He offered her his arm. "Tonight, we will not speak of him. I am too happy to think of how he has disappointed me. A very important journalist has arrived in Berumi to see me. My significance in this country is finally being recognized."

"How very exciting!"

"If you were truly mine, Cassia. I would have you on my arm tomorrow when he interviews me. All of Portugal would see how you have risen."

She laughed. "You flatter me, General. Where are you taking me for dinner?"

"Why must we go anywhere? My chef is the best on the island. I am having something prepared for us in my quarters."

"I'm not sure that's appropriate, General."

"My dear, your protests are disingenuous. You have seen the way I look at you and I know you are not a fool."

She walked with him up the steps to his home. "You are quite right, General. I am not a fool nor am I a concubine. I guarantee you a lovely dinner companion but nothing more."

He threw back his head and laughed.

…..

"Your job is to stay close to Ziva. I'll get McGee where he needs to go."

Tony sat on the bed and watched Gibbs administer a B12 shot to McGee. "All I know is that if you don't make it to that plane at 6 a.m., I'm staying behind."

Gibbs turned sharply. "You will not deviate from the plan!"

McGee nodded. "Boss is right, Tony. You do what he says."

"You're sure about this yacht?"

"Monterros himself set it up. The boat picks McGee up. The timing is iffy. So if I don't get back in time for the flight, I just get on another one. There's one at 10 a.m. that goes to Caracas, Venezuela. The only way this plan fails is if you and Ziva don't follow my lead."

"What if the yacht doesn't show?"

"That's not going to happen."

"You don't know-"

"Enough! We proceed with confidence, DiNozzo! You need to get going. I want you parked somewhere near his plantation in case she needs you."

Tony fixed his eyes on McGee. "I can't wait until we're all home. I'm going to bring over a bunch of movies and we're going to hang out for days."

Tim smiled. "Sounds good."

He looked at Gibbs once more, but the man's face was granite and so he patted McGee's check and left.

…

Completely naked, the rolls on his hairy gut were grotesque. The only saving grace was that his flab hid much of his genital area. He lounged on his side on an enormous red satin bed and beckoned to her. "Come here, my sweet."

She stayed out of reach, dancing rhythmically as she teased the only strap on her dress. "Let me dance for you, General."

His head lolled in the palm of his hand. "No dancing. I have waited long enough."

She let the strap drop and her dress floated over her hips. She wore nothing underneath "Are you sure you're ready?"

He slapped the bed. "Now! Or I shall come for you and beat that beautiful ass."

"More wine?"

"No!" He bellowed. "Come!"

She walked over to him and he reached out and grabbed her hand, jerking her onto the bed. She stayed docile as he mauled at her breasts, his hot breath in her ear. "I think that I shall spank that ass nonetheless. You deserve it, Cassia. But first, I'll take my pleasure in you."

He rolled over on top of her, but she said nothing. He grunted as he reached for his flaccid member. "You have done nothing to stimulate me!"

"I will take care of it," she said softly as her hand trailed down past his stomach. Just as she reached his groin, his breath grew heavy and deep. She looked up at his face and his eyes were closed. He tossed his head in an effort to wake, but sleep was too powerful and he started snoring into her neck. She stayed still for a few minutes until she was sure he was out. She worried that the sedative she poured into his wine wasn't as powerful as she'd hoped, but his eyes didn't open again. Finally, she rolled away from him and got off the bed. She picked up her dress and pulled a small glass vial out of the hem. She crawled back onto the bed and two fingers in his mouth, prying open his teeth. She shook the powder onto his tongue and closed his mouth. She stared at him and then shuddered deep inside.

She pulled her dress on and texted Tony. She gathered her shoes and left the room. The guards were nonplused by her exit and she imagined that it was pretty common practice for Saldana to kick out his conquests in the middle of the night.

The car pulled up within minutes and she climbed in next to Tony. She felt his eyes on her but she said nothing. Tony drove. "Is he alive?"

She nodded, staring out at the starry night.

"How far…what did he do to you?"

The slap to his face was as fast as lightning.

He sucked in breath. "Ziva!"

She glared at him. "I did my job in there and that's all you need to know."

"I'm sorry."

She closed her eyes and rested her face against the window.

….

McGee followed Gibbs and Eponine from the car to a spot on a cliff overlooking the beach. It seemed an unusual place to rendezvous with a yacht. He tried to ask questions but Gibbs gave him cryptic answers. Eponine was in jeans and a t-shirt now, having deposited the celebrated Augosto Azul at the hotel. She handed Gibbs a pair of night vision binoculars, and he peered out on the bay. After a few moments, he caught sight of the yacht. Then he scanned the area around it. Finally, he shook his head, handed the binoculars to McGee and pointed. McGee took them and trained it where he was pointing. Behind an outcropping of rocks waited two smaller motorboats. McGee turned to Gibbs. "It's an ambush."

He nodded. "I had my suspicions. Eponine checked it out. The rumors of this rescue were already running through the capital building. Monterros is too weak. His people are spies for Saldana."

"There is no way to get on that boat, is there?"

He shook his head.

McGee sighed. "Well, that's it then."

"Do you imagine I would leave you?"

"There's nothing left to do, Boss."

"Then what do you do?"

"Leave me a gun, and I will hang on as long as I can."

Gibbs chuckled. "Not going to happen. Time for plan B."

"Which is?"

He sighed. "I almost have it. Eponine, we can't go back to the hotel, can we?"

She shook her head. "It is hard to say how much they know. It's better I take you elsewhere."

McGee stared out at the bay once more at the yacht in the distance. Freedom had been so very close. He let out a ragged sigh before following Gibbs and Eponine back to the car.

….

Gibbs' phone rang in the car and he picked it up. "Yeah Tony…No, it went smooth. I got him on the yacht about half an hour ago…I know what time it is…You and Ziva will get on that plane at 6 a.m. I am going to follow on the 10 a.m. flight to Caracas…No! You're not waiting! This is the plan and you're going to follow it, DiNozzo…Everything is fine. How's Ziva?...Okay. We'll meet up again in D.C…Don't worry about anything. Just get back to D.C…Good luck, Tony."

He hung up and leaned against the back of the seat with a heavy sigh. From the back seat, McGee reached up and touched his shoulder. "That was the right thing to do, Boss."

"I know."

….

Tony sat in first class next to Ziva, but he couldn't relax. Kort and Laurent were staying back for the time so that Kort could further insinuate himself into Saldana's world. When the attendant offered him champagne, he started to decline, but Ziva stopped him and accepted a flute for him and herself. She put both of them on her tray and stared out the window.

She hadn't said two words to him since he'd picked her up from Saldana's estate. He wanted to know what happened, but he also knew that his anger wouldn't help her. The best thing he could think to do was to stay close and be gentle with her.

She finished both flutes champagne, and he took the glasses from her and handed them to the flight attendant. Ziva started to ask for another, but he shook his head at her. He covered her hand with his and leaned his head toward hers. "I'm just going to be here with you."

Her eyes watered and she rested her head on his shoulder.

….

"You think we can get a clean link here."

"It's on the laptop that International Red Cross left behind for us. I don't see any reason why they would be monitoring it especially since the team left Berumi yesterday."

Gibbs nodded. "Are you ready?"

"No."

"You don't have to do this."

McGee took a deep breath. They were in Paolo Fuente's living room, and the experience left him emotional. Everywhere he looked, there were signs of who he was, the man who kept his hope alive for so long. A large picture window looked out on the bay. It was a quietly beautiful room with built in bookcases and classic prints. It was an aesthetic that McGee appreciated, and on any other occasion he would have been happy to relax here. Eponine seemed oddly uncomfortable and keep to her feet, fussing about the kitchen for unspoiled for food.

"Tim?"

McGee turned to him. "They deserve it, right? The truth is best."

He nodded. It took only a couple of tries before Vance's face filled the screen. He looked worried. "What happened?"

"Too many leaks. Saldana's men were waiting. We had to abort."

"Damn!"

James McGee got in next to Vance. "Tim, are you there?"

Gibbs pointed the webcam at McGee. His bruises were fading, but the toll of the experience was still etched in his pale, drawn features. "Dad."

James rubbed his mouth for a moment before responding. "I'm so sorry, Son. I'm so sorry."

"I'm okay."

"Don't lie. No more lies, okay?"

"Okay."

"Gibbs, do you have a plan?"

He leaned in. "Only the ghost of one. I can't talk about it over this link."

"Understood. I wish I could do more. Jarvis all but has me on house arrest. Guess he's afraid I might go rogue…and he's right."

"Dad, I have faith in my boss. He doesn't give up and I won't either."

"When will we know something?"

McGee looked at Gibbs. "We don't know."

The admiral's chin trembled. "I have been a fool. We've wasted so much so time. Please come home! Come home and we'll start over. I'm so proud of you and I love you. Your mom and I think of you every day."

"It's going to be okay," he said as he brushed at the moisture at the corners of his eyes. Tell Mom I love her and Sarah too. We're going to be together again. I promise you that."

"Okay. Let's not…clog up the line here."

Tim smiled at his father's logic. "You're right. Somebody else might need the bandwith."

"Before you go, there's someone here who needs to say something."

She looked as pale as he was and her eyes were blurry with tears. He touched the screen. "I'm so sorry, Abbs."

"You can't give up. Neither one of you. The two most important people in my life are in danger and it will literally kill me to lose you."

He shook his head. "It's okay, Abbs. We're doing everything we know to do."

A sob escaped. "I love you, McGee. I love you so much. You have no idea how badly I've missed you."

He studied her face. "Probably as bad as I've missed you."

"Come home."

He swallowed hard before answering. "Promise."

Vance gently moved her aside. "Can we do anything?"

Gibbs shook his head. "It's a wild card move. The most I will say is that we plan to exploit Saldana's weaknesses."

Vance nodded. "We'll be waiting."

The screen went dark. For a few moments, no one said anything. Eponine came in from the kitchen. "I called a friend who will bring groceries. No worries. He thinks I am here alone packing up my father's things."

Gibbs looked up. "Food would be good."

"Is it safe for me to go outside?" McGee asked.

She nodded. "It's very private here. Stick to the gardens. The trees will cover anyone watching from the air."

He rubbed his face. "I just need a little time alone."

Gibbs watched him go outside. Eponine came into the living room, hands on her hips. "I have to get to town and meet up with Azul. My friend will leave the food on the steps. We have a few minutes before I go. Let's pull this idea together."

He smirked. "You'd make a helluva' agent, Eponine."

…

He slammed the table with his palm and stood. "He played me! I knew it! I felt it! Bastard!"

"Sit down, DiNozzo." Vance said.

"We should be there. Damn it!"

Ziva was on her feet, holding her middle. "Our covers are still good. We can get on a plane tonight."

"You're not going anywhere."

Tony pointed a finger at him. "This is not how a team operates! This breaks every rule he ever made! How dare he!"

"You're excess baggage back there. The op has changed. Whatever they do, it needs to be clean and simple. He made the right call. You're going to have to get over it, DiNozzo."

Ziva looked at the ceiling. "Vance is right."

"They don't have a way out, people."

Vance looked at him. "If there is anyone that can make this happen, it's Gibbs. We have no more control. Both of you are exhausted. You look like hell. Go home. Shower. Sleep. Then we'll talk."

"You gotta' be kidding me," Tony chortled. "Not happening."

"Really? Loose cannon is not what we need around here right now. And don't think you can just head back to the airport. I called NSA and put your aliases on alert. You're not boarding any plane right now."

Tony cursed and left, slamming the door behind him. Ziva looked at Vance. "I did something for Kort."

He gestured to a chair. "Sit down and tell me about it.

…

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Another writer would give you another 10 chapters, but I feel like a story is never meant to resolve everything. It took me awhile to figure out exactly what I wanted this ending to be, and then it took me longer to be satisfied with it. I hope you like it. Sheila

A Man Left Behind

Chapter 9

"Your plan is audacious, Eponine. If I had known the details, I would never come all the way from Portugal."

"Augosto, you will be a hero."

"It has very little chance of success." The middle-aged journalist kept one eye on a mirror his stylist had propped in the back of the limo. The man was handsome despite his portly and meaty face because he sported the most amazing head of wavy hair that required minute attention daily and because he carried the presence of a man who knew who he was.

"I want you to start thinking about what you're going to wear for the next United Nations dinner for Humanitarian Heroes."

He pointed a finger. "You are an amazing woman, Eponine, and I've known you and your father since you were a girl, but I will not be your pawn."

She looked out the window. "Pawn? You are the crux of this plan. He will believe it if you do. Only you can pull this off."

Her appeal to his vanity made him smile.

She patted his arms. "We are almost at his plantation. You can ask the tough questions, but make it clear that your interest is in a profile of a man brave enough to take on the U.S. military. There must be an undercurrent of admiration for his bravado."

Azul rolled his eyes. "I know how to play men like him. Tyrants don't impress me."

"Afterward, you must insist on a photo opportunity. Insist that he accompany you to the airport to see you off. The photos must happen there. It has to be a live feed that will be immediately sent to your network in Portugal."

His brow furrowed. "You are a clever girl, but I worry it is not enough."

She shook her head. "Augosto, you must have faith."

He reached over and took her hand. "I worry about you, my dear. Saldana will not tolerate your games. Don't be a martyr."

She squeezed his hand and smiled. "I am very resourceful."

"And very dangerous. I know that I would not wish to cross you."

She threw back her head and let out a throaty laugh.

…..

"Tim, they're going to be here any minute to pick us up and you have to be ready."

McGee shook his head. "We're not doing it."

"This is not a game. I've thought this through. It's our best chance, and we only get one shot."

"No." For the first time, McGee didn't look fragile. He was more like a wiry spring ready to explode.

"We don't have time to argue. I will follow you if I can."

"No."

"McGee!"

"We leave together or not at all." McGee's eyes were bright with emotion.

"If Saldana sees me, it's going to unravel."

"Not if we play it right. You told me that this whole thing depends on our commitment. We're going to make it so real that he's going to start to believe he had a hand in it."

Gibbs shook his head. "That's magical thinking. Not going to work."

"Well, it's all we have."

"McGee, I know what I'm doing. We're going to get you home."

"Look at me, Boss." He took a deep breath. "They can't do anything to me that I haven't already experienced. I have nothing to lose. If you're not with me, I'm not going to do it. Bottom line."

Gibbs kicked the coffee table. "Enough! We don't have time for this! I am still running this team. You'll do as I say!"

McGee looked shaky as he leaned against the wall. He shook his head. "No."

Gibbs pointed a finger. "Your father is waiting. Your family. The team. Abby. You can't do this to her."

"What was it like after you had to leave me? How did you sleep? How did you feel?"

"Lousy. You were and are my responsibility, Tim. It felt like a knife in my gut."

He shook his head. "And you wish that on me when I come back without you?"

"It's different. You're not responsible for me."

"Bullshit."

"Tim."

"Bullshit, Boss. I am responsible for you. Everything you ever taught me points to that truth. We leave together or we don't leave. I won't entertain any other scenario."

Gibbs stared at him for a long time. "You can't hesitate for a minute. We're going to catch him off guard, but he's a wild card. We don't know what he'll do."

"It's psychology, Boss. We're going to Psy-Ops him."

"Yeah."

McGee sighed deeply. "Okay. I'm ready."

….

"This is foolishness. We should've said good-bye at my estate." General Saldana growled as he paced the gate to Azul's flight. "Where is he!"

Eponine watched him carefully. "Augosto is getting last minute touches on his appearance. We're doing a live feed with ZNN Portugual."

Saldana clutched his side. "I have pains, Eponine. Can you not see that I need rest? And where is my makeup? I will appear on this 'live feed' looking like a ghost. It is no good. A trick on your part, no doubt, because of what happened to your father."

Eponine signaled for a makeup person. "There is no trick. You have a chance to impress the Portuguese people. You have a chance to prove you are a strong leader."

Saldana groaned as he tried to straighten up. A girl with powder in her hand began dusting his face. "And what is in it for you? You have no reason to help me."

She leaned over in her elegant Versace suit and pulled paperwork out of a bag. "Of course, I want something. I want to leave here. And you can make that happen."

He chortled. "I don't think so. You amuse me too much."

She pushed a VISA application in front of him. "Sign it and I can leave with Augosto."

He studied her for a moment. "This is his idea?"

She sighed. "He feels things for me, and there is nothing holding me here."

"I don't think I'll sign it. Like I said, it is good to have you nearby. My darling Cassia escaped on a plane this morning. I will be lonely."

"General, Augosto Azul has the power to make you legitimate. He can change international perceptions. He can give you the presidency with his influence. The only price for everything you want is me. Give me my freedom. I promise to never return."

"That makes me sad."

She rolled her eyes. "You'll survive."

"I'm too tired to argue, Eponine. Let me sign the damn papers."

She pushed them toward him and he signed with a flourish. "You have your freedom, but you better be careful. If you misbehave, I will find you. No one will mourn the untimely death of a Berumian traitor with no family."

"You are a charmer, General," she said with an odd smile. "Saying good-bye to you will be hardest of all."

….

"What's happening?" Tony burst into MTAC, Ziva on his heels.

Vance looked up from where he was sitting with Admiral McGee and Abby. "We have the most curious feed coming out of ZNN Portugal. I suspect we are all about to fall down a rabbit hole."

…..

McGee had the distinct displeasure of lying at the bottom of a truck bed crushed under the weight of his boss. Protesting was not an option so he did the best he could to swallow his discomfort. Just when he thought the lack of blood to his legs was going to necessitate amputation, a tarp was pulled of the truck, and strong, brown sets of hands pulled him out of the truck and hurried both of them into a maintenance door.

A man neither of them knew pushed documents into their hands that were stamped by customs. The man asked for their passports,a nd Gibbs produced his and the one they had made for McGee. They were summarily stamped and handed back to him. Then they were taken up a set of stairs and hidden in a closet.

They crouched in darkness, waiting. McGee swallowed, "This is it, Boss."

"I know you're not healthy, but I want you to stand tall and display nothing but confidence."

McGee found Gibbs' shoulder and squeezed. "You can count on me."

He could almost feel Gibbs smile in the darkness. "You haven't let me down yet."

…

Augosto Azul had the same comfort in front of the camera that one might find among their closest friends. Even without a prompter, his delivery was smooth and seamless.

"We all remember Berumi as a sleepy, tropical jewel off the coast of Brazil. How many of us can recall summer vacations on pristine beaches, the friendliness of a people steeped in the small nation's beauty. In recent years, the innocence of this special land has been marred with violence and civil strife. Plagued by failing health, President Monterros has given many of his responsibilities to General Alberto Saldana. Saldana, a Portuguese native, has been described both as brilliant and ruthless. Stories have leaked of death squads and torture. Tourism has declined sharply and the Berumian people have grown hungry."

Azul paused and turned to another camera. "Most recently, the General retaliated against the U.S. Navy after a training exercise left dozens of Berumians dead. Internationally, many have applauded his actions as brave while others wonder about the wisdom of poking the sleeping American giant."

Azul walked toward Saldana. "I had the pleasure of spending the morning with the General to see if I could unlock the mysteries of this complex man. Our conversation was most illuminating, and I believe we've come closer to understanding the Berumian situation."

He gestured. "General, you are live with the Portuguese people. What would you like them to know about Berumi today?"

Saldana smiled broadly. "We are the same beautiful island you remember from your youth, and we are waiting for you to return. The character assassinations against myself and my country are propaganda tools put out by the U.S. government. They are afraid to show force because of international influence, and thus, have stooped to lies. Our country is stronger than these lies. We will not fall. The Americans are incapable of starving us into submission."

"Those are serious charges, General. Do you deny that you are the ruthless dictator portrayed in news reports?"

Saldana flinched, and his hand reflexively went to his side. "I am a strong leader. Strong leaders are often accused of brutality. It has been necessary to instill discipline in a country plagued with poverty, but any and all claims of torture and murders are false."

"General, would you agree that a strong leader need also be a compassionate leader?"

"Of course!" Saldana puffed up, but the sweat on his forehead belayed his discomfort. "I am like a father to my people. It is crucial to remember my heart and the responsibility of my position. To whom much has been given, much is expected."

"I marvel at those words, General. Your press liaison, Eponine Fuentes, has informed me that you are giving us a magnificent gift as we leave the country today. This gesture is one that will solidify your status as a strong yet compassionate leader."

Confusion reigned on Saldana's face but he was acutely aware of the cameras watching him. "Of course, Augosto, I want nothing more than for people to know my compassion."

"Our flight is ready to board. Miss Eponine, please tell us about the general's generosity."

Eponine stepped forward and gestured toward a service door. Gibbs stepped through followed by McGee. "I don't understand," Saldana said softly, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Eponine smiled. "We spoke of this. Jack Hanson, U.S. Government liaison to Interdyne, has advocated for the release of American hostage, Timothy McGee, unjustly imprisoned. Despite pressure by anti-American elements, you reviewed his case and realized that his circumstances in Berumi were innocent. You have decided that your frustration with the U.S. will not prevent you from releasing him to his family."

Red-faced, Saldana started to rise, but Azul intercepted him. "This is a generous act and you are being watched by millions of people around the world who are applauding your actions."

Saldana turned sharply to Eponine. "They do not have the necessary papers to leave."

"You signed them just minutes ago."

Gibbs advanced on Saldana and shook his hand, turning sideways so the camera could capture everything. "On behalf of the U.S. Government, we wish to say thank you for your generosity in this matter."

….

Tony stared at the big screen in MTAC, mouth wide open. "Oh my God!"

Vance shook his head. "The State Department is going to have my head over this, but all I can say is bring it on."

Abby was on her feet clutching Ziva tightly around the middle. "They're safe!"

Ziva pulled away sharply. "They are still on the ground in Berumi and thus, still very much in danger."

…..

McGee also grasped the General's hand, his eyes steady. "Thank you for your generosity and fairness. I will never forget what you have done for me."

Saldana's face screwed up as if he'd been slapped. Then he pulled his hand away and looked at Eponine. "What is this?"

Eponine put a hand on his back and faced him toward the camera. "You are a hero, General. Your family back in Portugal is watching and they are proud."

"I do not feel well," he hissed. "I need a moment to think."

Eponine gestured with her head, and Azul moved in. "You are a very busy man, and of course, you are tired. We will take our leave of you now. Thank you for your hospitality."

He shook the General's hand and then took McGee's arm and steered him toward the plane. He signaled for the camera crew to keep filming. Saldana just stared. Gibbs started to follow, but stopped when he saw Eponine standing like a statue. "Eponine!"

She blinked. "I want to stay. My life is here."

He grabbed her arm but she resisted. "I am not afraid of the beast! This is my country, these are my people, and I belong here."

The shock was wearing off for Saldana, and he bellowed for his guards. Gibbs threw Eponine bodily over his shoulder and headed for the plane. The camera crew grabbed their things and followed. McGee was waiting at the door and pulled the, all through and shut the door.

Gibbs dropped into a seat next to McGee. McGee let out a ragged sigh. "We're safe."

"We're not off the ground yet."

Eponine's hair tumbled out of her bun, and she struggled to sit upright from where Gibbs unceremoniously deposited her. "My people cut the phone lines to the air traffic control tower. Our military does not have the capacity to respond with an air strike. We are safe."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes at her. "And your plan was to stay and trade insults with Saldana while he ordered your firing squad?"

"He wouldn't dare kill me. Augosto would destroy him in the international press. Plus, I have people everywhere. They would never have allowed him to hurt me."

Hearing his name, Azul appeared, shaking his head. "You have always been too wild. Your father never could handle you. You need to learn to listen. All the friends in the world can't save you when a rifle is pointed between your eyes."

She flashed eyes at both of them while she slumped in her seat, arms folded. Gibbs rubbed his mouth to cover a smile while McGee closed his eyes and tried to settle his breathing.

….

Vance leaned over a monitor in MTAC. Finally, he straightened and looked at them all, a broad smile growing. "They've cleared Berumian air space! They are on their way home! They should be in D.C. in about 8 hours."

Spontaneous applause erupted around the room. Tony picked Ziva up and swung her around. Abby hugged a surprised Leon Vance, and Admiral McGee sat there with wet eyes, his hands clasped tightly together.

….

McGee groaned as he opened his eyes. Bright lights assaulted him from all directions.

"Let me pull the curtains."

It was a familiar voice, gentle in a way he hadn't heard since he was a boy. "Dad?"

With the light dimmed, he was able to focus on his father. It had been too many years. Most of his sandy brown hair had been replaced with gray, and there were lines on his face that surprised Tim.

"Where am I?"

"Bethesda."

"I don't need a hospital."

"What do you remember about last night?"

Tim frowned. "We were on a plane. Augosto, Gibbs, and Eponine were arguing because they wanted to take me straight to New York. ZNN wanted Augosto and Eponine there for a special broadcast of something they called, _Escape from Berumi_. Gibbs kept telling them to go to hell. I was too tired to say much. I don't remember much else."

"Well, we were waiting at the airport. When you came off, you looked a ghost. You were in no condition to deal with a bunch of exuberant greetings. Gibbs ran interference. Ducky was there. Said you had a high fever and needed hospital care to effectively tackle the malaria."

"Was Abby there?"

"She finally wormed her way in for a hug and you passed out in her arms."

Tim groaned. "Poor Abbs."

"It certainly settled the question of you not going to New York."

"I don't want to talk about this on TV, but I feel like I owe it to all the brave Berumian people who helped me. People risked their lives daily to keep me alive. I can't forget that."

"You don't have to be paraded around to various news programs in order to help. As soon as you're doing a little better, the State Department will debrief you, and a taped interview can be provided to the media. The International Red Cross gave your testimony to the United Nations Human Rights Commission. You've already done a lot."

Tim relaxed back into his pillow. He looked at his dad. "It means so much to me that you're here."

"I've been a fool."

"We both have."

"I would like it if we never fight again."

The Admiral shook his head. "We're McGee's, Tim. We're stubborn men with strong ideas. Of course, we'll fight again, but this time we won't act like we have all the time in the world to make it right. We'll be smarter."

Tim squeezed his hand. "I want that more than anything, Dad."

…..

Gibbs traced the impossible curves of his naked bed partner while she slept. He watched as a smile crept onto her face. Her dark eyes popped open.

"How did you sleep?"

She sighed. "Like a baby. You really know how to take care of a girl."

"In the bedroom, maybe. I fail in every other way."

"Don't worry," she said as she propped her head on her elbow, the sheet sliding off her breasts. He marveled at how she had no reflexive discomfort about her nudity. "I only want what you gave me last night."

"No one will ever tame you, Eponine."

She ran a hand through her thick mane of hair. "If I were tamed, I would be a shrew. It is only in being wild that I hold any interest for men."

He chuckled. "You have plenty of other assets."

"I follow Augosto to New York today."

"Please don't push me about taking McGee with you."

She sighed. "It would be good to have him, but he is sick. I understand."

"He isn't only sick, Eponine. He's been tortured, traumatized. He needs time. He'll tape interviews for you and Augosto to use, but he can't be a puppet that you manipulate for your own purposes."

She buried her fingers in his hairy chest. "I don't want to hurt him. He's a good man. I suspect that Augosto will be happy to be the focus of this story."

Her fingers began to explore his stomach. "I want to come sometime, and sit with him. I want him to tell me about my father. I want to know who my father really was."

His breathing deepened. "What time do I need to get you to the airport?"

She twisted her head and looked at his old alarm clock. "We have an hour before I need to take a shower."

His hand settled on the small of her back and he pulled her in to him and buried his face in her neck. "Let me take another opportunity to thank you for your crazy, impulsive, and courageous service to my agent."

"Don't call me cra-" He had his mouth over hers before she could finish. She struggled for only a moment before melting into his kiss.

…..

Gibbs got into the office around noon, and found Tony and Ducky staring at a ZNN report on the plasma. Ziva sat at her desk with a pretended indifference.

"What's happening?"

Tony turned to him. "There's a news report that Saldana collapsed this morning and had to be rushed to the hospital. They don't know much else."

"He looked pretty terrible yesterday, and I was really grateful for it. If he'd had his wits about him, there's a good chance we would never have gotten out of there."

Tony looked at Ziva. "You have no interest in this conversation, do you?"

She shrugged. "I do not care what happens to him."

"You slipped him something."

"Yes."

"Kort gave you a poison."

All eyes were on her. "Ethylene Glycol in powdered form."

"How much?" Ducky asked.

She shook her head. "Enough so that he would die, but not so much that he would die right away. We needed to make it ambiguous as to when or how he got sick."

"You've pickled his kidneys. No one will know to look for the poison until after he is dead," Ducky said. "This has to be quite painful for him."

She glared at him. "I feel no guilt about poisoning him."

Ducky shook his head. "I'm not judging."

"Aren't you?"

"He's not, Ziva," Tony said softly.

She was on her feet. "Maybe you all think I'm still just an assassin; that I didn't feel anything when I had to lie there and let him…"

She stopped and looked away.

"Ziva, look at me. Come on. Look at me."

She looked at Gibbs.

"McGee and I would be dead right now if you hadn't poisoned him. If he'd been more lucid, I doubt our plan would've worked. You are the reason that we made it out of there."

Ducky took her hand. "Ziva, I'm so sorry. You made a very difficult but correct decision. And I do not see you as an assassin. You are so much more than that."

She nodded but couldn't meet his eyes. He glanced at Gibbs who nodded. "We're not working this week. We need to relax. It's been a long three months. Take some time. Go sit somewhere. Be kind to yourself."

Ziva nodded. "We should sit with McGee."

"No, he needs his own space. Let him get to know his dad again. Go somewhere. Be good to yourself." Gibbs caught Tony's eyes. "I'll take care of the follow-up with the State Department. Get out of here."

Gibbs nodded at Ducky and the two of them headed up to Vance's office. Ziva looked at Tony. "Don't judge me, Tony. I know how you feel about how close I had to get…to him."

Tony's eyes were soft. "You don't know so much, Ziva. For instance, if you knew exactly what I was thinking, then you would know how I am in awe of your courage and your willingness to sacrifice for those you love."

"Really? You're not disgusted."

He closed the gap, wrapping her in his arms softly. "Only with him, my sweet."

"It will be nice to rest for a few days."

"Not by yourself." He'd made no attempt to let her go.

"Tony."

He sighed. "We've spent enough time at the beach. I say we head to the mountains."

"I don't know." Her breath settled in rhythm with his.

"Separate bedrooms. Hiking. Dinner at the lodge. Then we'll sit by a roaring fire at night and talk…or maybe, we'll just sit. It'll be good for both of us."

She looked up at him. "You know of such a place?"

He smiled. "I already made reservations."

…..

When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring directly at the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen. "Abbs."

She stroked his face gently. "I was just looking at you. Sort of afraid to touch you though. Last time I tried, you passed out."

"I'm feeling better now."

She shifted on the pillow. "They'll probably complain if they find me in bed with you, but I thought it would be nice to be really close and feel your breathing. It's been so long, Timmy."

"I know." He settled a hand on her waist. "I missed you so much."

"Me too." Her eyes watered.

"Abbs, I was in a bad place for too long, but sometimes, in a place like that, your mind gets really clear. You see things you never really saw before."

"What did you see, Tim?" Her fingers stroked the side of his face.

"I used to be afraid to know it and say it."

"Tell me."

He breathed in. "You and I are supposed to be together always. It was no accident that we found each other. It happened for a reason, and it's up to us to honor that. It's a blessing…"

"Tim?"

He frowned. "I can't find the exact words."

She smiled. "I think your words are perfect."

"I don't know how we do this. I know that you are meant to be a part of me. I also know you can't possibly have that same certainty and I don't want to scare you with mine."

"But I know the same thing. I think I knew it for a long time, but I wasn't…ready."

"I have a lot of healing to do."

"We both do," she said as she nuzzled her nose against his. Then she began kissing him softly on his nose, his forehead, his cheek, and then his mouth. She drew back when she felt the tears on his cheeks. "Timmy?"

His breath was ragged. "I thought I was dead, Abby. I thought it for a long time. It's kind of hard to adjust to feeling alive again…and then having you so close. I'm just a little overwhelmed."

"Hey, it's okay. We'll take it slow…just as slow as you want. Okay?"

"Okay."

….

She came at him fast and hard in the formal chambers of the U.N. building, and he flashed back to the first day he met her when he wasn't sure if she was going to save him or kill him. She wrapped her arms around him like he was her long lost brother and kissed him on the cheek remarking on how chubby and beautiful he was. Then she caught his face in her hands. "You and I must sit down. I have thought about you so much!"

Abby tightened her grip on his arm impatiently, and before he had a chance to respond, the elegant Eponine and her head of hair had stalked off on her expensive heels toward Gibbs. She'd been hired to work on the U.N. Human Rights Commission particular to the question of Berumi and was coordinating the witnesses for testimony on human rights violations.

The boss was in a suit and a tie which always left him looking like he was a bit constipated. Hurricane Eponine landed, and McGee winced as he saw her settle her hand on his arm. Boss was not a toucher. Any sustained contact was usually greeted with a swift retreat, but something funny was happening here. Boss wasn't moving away. In fact, he seemed quite comfortable with her proximity. McGee cocked his head at this oddity, but he didn't get a chance to consider the implications because Abby tugged on his arm and pointed.

Admiral McGee was on the scene in his dress whites with a group of similarly dressed officers. McGee felt a smile pulling at his mouth. His dad had stayed close in the last few months, and while they didn't always see eye to eye, he had rediscovered his father's sharp intellect and dry humor. As long as they stayed away from past slights, they found that they really enjoyed one another.

"Dad!"

The Admiral gave him a hug. "You ready, Tim?"

"It's not a big deal, really."

"You're testifying at the U.N. It's a very big deal."

"Did you have to bring your entire staff?"

"Just a minute." The Admiral leaned over and kissed Abby on the cheek. "How's my favorite girl?"

Abby beamed and hugged him. There was something about the unfettered affection between his dad and Abby that touched him deeply.

"Dad? The posse?"

Admiral gestured. "This is actually the team that is investigating the accident that killed Berumian fishermen and Saldana's resulting retaliation. They want to hear your testimony."

Tim closed his eyes. "It's starting to feel like a circus."

Admiral McGee gripped his arm. "You can do this."

He shook his head. "It's been two months since Saldana died. Why hasn't Monterros emptied El Corazon? It makes no sense."

"The old man is scared. He knows that he should've done more to control Saldana. He rightly assumes that a lot of those prisoners are going to blame him for his negligence. That's why your testimony is so crucial. The U.N. can file sanctions against Berumi if we can make a case for human rights violations."

The chamber doors opened and Kort and Laurent Pierce came out. McGee stiffened. "I didn't realize he was going to be here."

"Me neither," Admiral McGee said in a low voice.

Gibbs came over. "Pierce testified regarding all of his dealings with Saldana. It's part of his plea deal. He starts a seven year sentence in federal prison tomorrow."

The Admiral frowned. "They're walking over here."

"I got this," Gibbs said but McGee held him back.

"It's okay, Boss."

Kort walked ahead of Pierce as a buffer. "They're going to call you in shortly, but Laurent wanted to say something to you first. Are you willing to listen?"

"Tell that bastard he can go to hell!" Abby said, breathing hard.

He clutched her hand tightly. "Abbs, you gotta' let me do this."

She bit her lip and nodded. Laurent was in front of them looking nothing like the handsome rogue he used to be. He took a deep breath. "I don't know what to say, Tim. I screwed up. I think back on it, and I don't really understand it. It's like my ambition made me a different person. I'm so sorry. I don't know if you can ever forgive me, but you should know that I understand that I have to pay for my mistakes."

McGee studied him. "I'm glad you understand that, Laurent."

"I'm not that person anymore, Tim."

"I don't know who you are and I don't particularly care."

"The pressure at that time in my life was wild."

"Is that an excuse? Are you trying to explain to me that it was somehow reasonable to give me to that monster?"

"I just meant that there were extenuating circumstances."

"Except you weren't being threatened and your life wasn't in danger. Your extenuating circumstance was your career." Tim moved face to face with Pierce. "Don't come over and talk bullshit with me. You're going to prison and you're feeling sorry for yourself. Good. You deserve nothing less."

"Calm down, Tim."

"Calm down! Did you just tell me to calm down!" Tim let go off Abby and rushed Pierce. Kort, Gibbs, and the Admiral were all there to pull him off.

"Kort!" Gibbs barked as he pushed Tim back. "Get him out of here!"

Kort got Pierce to his feet and just as he steadied, Admiral McGee punched him square in the jaw. Pierce fell back and the admiral stood over him. "You have no right to ask anything of my son! If I had my way, you'd be charged with espionage, and I'd have a front row seat at your hanging! Get up and get out of here!"

Kort pulled him to his feet and pushed him forward. He looked back. "My apologies."

The sharp clicks of heels on marble sounded and Eponine was there, looking angry. "I told the pig he was not to talk to you. Has he rattled you? Are you okay? Compose yourself. The commission will be ready for you in five."

Then she patted his cheek. "You mustn't worry. I will always watch over you."

Then she was gone and Abby blinked at McGee. "Has she adopted you or something?"

"I don't really know."

The Admiral regarded her retreating form. "She's like a barnacle, Son. Once she attaches, I doubt there is any getting rid of her."

"I think you're exactly right, Admiral," Gibbs said. "Do you mind if I talk to my agent for a moment before the proceedings?"

Gibbs led him away from the group. "Nervous?"

McGee swallowed. "The idea of talking to such a large and distinguished group would be difficult for me on any occasion, but the idea that I have to speak to them about something…so horrible…I'm not comfortable talking to anyone about this, Boss."

"Look at me, Tim. I need you to hear this."

McGee nodded.

"When you walk in that room, I want you to remember that you are the strongest one there. No one else has survived what you have. You are remarkable and they will see that. And you will help them understand what they can do to help Berumi. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Just remember that we are all here for you.

He smiled as he focused on Abby and his father behind them. "Got it, Boss."

Gibbs patted his shoulder. "Let's do this."

"Hey Boss!"

Gibbs turned.

"What do you think of calling a girl L.J.? I mean it's not traditional, but I think it's kind of cool, right?"

"What? Who? What girl?"

"A baby girl," McGee said simply as he walked past Gibbs through the large oak doors of the U.N. Chamber.

Gibbs stared after him, mouth open. "Are you trying to tell me something? McGee? McGee!"

…

The End


End file.
